Tick tock, the work clock never stops.
mind nothing that matters and fall into the hole
that ends when we retire.
Toiling all day makes me realize
I'm barely even an adult.
I don't know and can't show and as
the tick tock knocks hours off my clock,
all I want to do... is go home.
Drink myself into a stupor and
dream about being a kid again.
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 2:36 AM UTC
Tick tock, the work clock never stops.
mind nothing that matters and fall into the hole
that ends when we retire.
Toiling all day makes me realize
I'm barely even an adult.
I don't know and can't show and as
the tick tock knocks hours off my clock,
all I want to do... is go home.
Drink myself into a stupor and
dream about being a kid again.
Request permission to use this poem