Hanging condescendingly above the door
She stared at the stern cuckoo clock
The minute hand silently creeping
Urging the hour hand to its destination
The second hand an evil judge
Its ticking a constant reminder
Of time’s inevitable march forward
And the journey that lay ahead of her
She wasn’t sure which one she hated more
She knew that when the small figurines
Emerged from their dark hiding place
To waltz their waltz
As they did every hour of every day
She would have to leave
And she didn’t know when she would return
And so as much as she hated the clock
It’s jolly song a mockery of her decision
She knew that ultimately leaving was her choice
And that she would miss the **** cuckoo clock
Hanging condescendingly above the door