PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The mouse ran up the ticking clock

Not knowing who he'd meet.

The housemaid and the barmans wife. 

The winner, or the thief. 

Amongst the rubble he carried on

Not knowing left from right.

A mansion or a cottage home. 

Or a liar, in disguise. 

The mouse ran up the ticking clock,

He didn't know his way, 

He dreamed of glitter, and colour, and love. 

He dreamed of wet clothes, and rain. 

And in the dark, the merry-go-round,

The swings, the smiles. And pain. 

The mouse ran up the ticking clock

Then he ran back home again.