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This is not good poetry
I dont care
What you think
I don't need to
See a shrink.
* * *
Twinkle, twinkle
Little star,
Go throw yourself
Under a car.

With scales like jade
and a furious roar.
I will draw my blade
and I'll cry out more.

Flames that burn
and wings that fly
I will take my turn
and I'll try not to die

A mouth so wide
it'll devour you whole
For I cannot hide
that I'm not so bold

He spreads his wings
as he prepares to fly
I can hear them ring
as I'm about to die

My wrist-watch has stopped working,
It’s tick tick ticks had ceased,
The second hand suspended in void,
Waiting for time to be released.

I made my way to the clock-maker
And entered into a tocking room
Multiple hands moving about
While mine waited to resume.

The bearded man studied me
With an unsettling grin
As he took my watch away
And such he did begin

A minute passed and then two,
And perhaps three or four
Then suddenly, I heard my
watch begin ticking once more

I paid the man, who gave a smile
And turned right towards the door.
I barely noticed that the clocks
Were not ticking anymore

And when I stepped outside
I had looked up to see
That the world around me had stopped
All except for me.

So I turned to see the shop
And found it was not there,
And so I stood, in silence, too,
With my watch ticking in the air.

Your mother may be gone
But, you can still hear her voice
She always guided and protected you
She encouraged you to make the right choice
Just always remember
That she wanted what was best for you
Think of all the lessons that were taught
Let those pleasant memories guide you through

The pounding, the pounding
It's pounding in my head.
The pounding, the pounding
Oh when will I be dead.

The pounding, the pounding
It's rotting up my soul.
The pounding, the pounding
It will not let me go.

The pounding, the pounding
The beating of my heart.
The pounding, the pounding
It's tearing me apart.