Tick after tock after tick after tock,
The face of the clock watches on with arrogance,  
Designed to remind us of the time we're wasting,
A smile from three to nine stretches over his face,
Each minute counted with with a strike of his hand,
An open fist of judgement protecting his noble numbered main,
He calls out when another hour has dwindled merrily by,
He knows it means we have an hour less,
He knows he will remain to haunt who's left.