Staring at the second hand
Slowly ticking away at what's left of my time
Hiding in the dead of the night
Waiting for the witching hour to begin
When the daylight fades and the night settles in
Staring at the minute hand
Wasting moments lost in memories
Counting up from zero, and down to it again
Waiting for the strike of twelve
To chime inside my head
When the dusk is gone and the dark sinks in
Watching seconds turn to minutes
Hours into days
The hands counting down the time that still remains
Days to nights and back to light
Weeks pass by toward my afterlife
And the clock tower chime
Three rings to tell me that it's midnight
And it all starts over again
Hickory dickory dock
tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock
its in your head now, huh?
welcome to my life, lol
I liked this, ROC.
You actually made me feel the antagonizing irritation of a clock when you're ready to leave and jump ship.
Bravo.
"We are, Each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another." -Luciano De Crescenzo
Always waiting
Impatiently. But that clock never stops, and time moves on. I like how you clocked it.
My head, as I'm sure you might have noticed, never left that world :p
Must be why you understand the underlying messages in all my writes.
"Music is a universal language and needs not be translated. With it, soul speaks to soul" - Songsterr