I sit and stare,
I look around the room,
See the dripping tap,
The peeling paper,
The clock upon the wall.

The clock doesn’t move,
The hands have stopped,
But still hear the ticking,
From the hallway,
The painting of melting clocks.

The time grazes by so slowly,
And nothing happens fast,
The evil of my dreaming,
The moment couldn’t last for long,
The clocks move time along.