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Theresa
Poems
Dec 2017
The old wall-clock
There sits the old-fashioned wall-clock
Elitist in what it’s allotted
Always watching over the flock
Never bit condescending spotted
It sees all the wickedness
But would never treat partial
Although it sees the kindness
It can be sometimes martial
But no matter the crime
It is always waiting
Counting forever time
Never innovating
Sometimes merciful, sometimes not
But adamantly, makes all rot
This poem is about a old family wall-clock. It’s very old, and precious to me. In this poem, I am using it as a metaphor for death.
#death
Written by
Theresa
F
(F)
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