The Clock

A poem about life, death & the test of time.

In a darkened room down a quiet hall
I lie awake staring at the wall
Hung overhead a single clock
“tick-tock” it goes “tick-tock”

Even with the sound of the pouring rain
Beating hard against the window pane
It’s soul existence seems to mock
“tick-tock” it goes “tick-tock”

I can not escape from this wretched ticking
My heartbeat races, beats unforgiving
The sound, my life, both interlocked
I can’t escape “tick-tock”

As the hour hand comes slowly creeping
The second hand seems to be speeding
Counting down till my minutes stop
“tick-tock” “tick-tock” “tick-tock”

The air tastes foul and my mind is slipping
the darkness grows as the chemo is dripping
I feel my heart beat with the clock
“tick-tock” ”beat-beat” ”tick-tock”

My time is fading minute by minute
I think of my life and all who were in it
I take my last breath my time is up
As the clock goes on “tick-tock”