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by Peyton Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #2352110

The ticks create annoyance, but once it is gone it is viewed in a different light.

I hear the clock tick and tick,
How I hate to hear the clock tick and tick.
All I hear is the same loud ticks.
How I wish I could go back to the old ticks,
The old ticks were brand new and fresh.
They surprised me day and night.

I remember how the once empty corner filled my heart with sorrow
But now hatred has filled my heart over the now filled corner ticking and ticking.
Tick-Tick-Tick, they budge
Oh, how forceful can it get?

I sit in my rocking chair,
Wondering is there possibly anymore despair.
I look up to see its charming chipped glass.
I see its indents from my once small child banging his head.
How he cried for me day and night.
Oh, how I wish I could see things the way I once did.

The perceptions of mine seem to dim every year.
Oh, how I love to hear the clock tick and tick.
But now all I hear no more ticks
I hear no more ticks-
I hear no more ticks-
How I want to hear those ticks.
Everything has faded into a distant memory,
As how I long from those distant ticks…
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