Tick, tock.
Ticking down.
I won’t live much
Longer, now.

T i c k ,   t o c k .
Ticking down.
My time is flying past,
And I’m too tired to chase after it.

Will it be okay
when I’m gone?
When I disappear
and don’t return?

T   i   c   k   ,     t   o   c   k   .
I sure hope
I don’t amount
to anything more

Than I am.