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The clock
Folder:
innocence looking mean through the time
moving silently like a mime
everytime the clock rings a chime
it is time for another dime
the political tyranny has rung
the powers of government has begun
hoping to eventually swallow us whole
giving rise to instruments that will snatch our soul
death to the clock, as it whispers
its ticks to the men, down on their whiskers
letting this violence and murder go on
gifting power to the people who do nothing but yawn
the clock stares down
when no one is around
all is sound
but none are found
watching us run
to have some fun
the clocks a joke
giving us thoughts to evoke
snaring and glaring at ones life
trying to provoke our strife
putting anger beyond our control
telling us not of the toll
of the chaos that we treat as a friend
that will lead to our untimedly end
