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Elizabeth Sommers  Sep 2015
The clock is ticking,
Time to go,
You better hurry up

Ticking, ticking,
Ticking, ticking,
It's never going to stop

Keep hold of your memories,
Never let them go,
If they are gone,
Time moves on,
And you forget your past

You've no need to know where you're going,
Only where you've been,
Keep running,
Don't let time catch up

Run away,
The clock is ticking,
Ticking, ticking,
Faster every day

Please keep going,
Don't look back,
It'll all be over soon

Ticking, ticking,
Ticking, ticking,
It's all over now
Shelby Azilda  May 2013
Shelby Azilda May 2013
The clock slowly ticks, ticking ticking ticking,
As time has come to a stop.
All we can hear is the ticking,
The ticking of the broken clocks.

We'll be lost in forever, over and over
Repeating our lives.
Memories are spilling over,
Hey, remember that time?

We met by accident,
Serendipity you could say.
I liked the way your eyes shined,
As you smiled that day.

But one problem led to another,
Nights blended into days.
What's the difference between midnight,
And the middle of the afternoon?

The clocks tick away the memories,
Tick Tick tick...

We dance across the realities,
Laugh at our lives.
We act so happily,
As our dreams are torn with time.

The clocks are ticking...
Every second is another year.
Everything was okay,
Everything began to disappear.

Hey do you remember?
Do you?
"Do I remember?
I can't say that I can..."

The clock slowly ticks, ticking, ticking, ticking...
And my memories of you begin to fade.
All I can remember is the ticking,
Our lives ticking away...
Tick tick tick...

Who are you?
I wrote this poem a few years ago on deviantArt; originally it was called As The Clock Ticks. I decided to edit it a bit today.
I Anonymous Feb 2018
the clock is ticking
and i am very afraid
afraid to live
in a world where i probably won't see my old age
in a world where nuclear war, global warming, and people killing innocent children is all the rage
for about a week
until the news has a new obsession to seek
the clock is ticking
and my heart should at the least drop in fear
when i hear that another massacre had occurred
with 17 victims. hashtag MSD strong
just give it a month, the news will move along
the clock is ticking
and at six years old we should not be reciting our abc's
as we hide where a bad man cannot see.
I thought that everybody was welcome at school
why can't the man with the toy gun can't come in too?
the clock is ticking
and what the hell is wrong with your generation?
instead of address the problem you train us to solve it by hiding under tables

if my friend can take one look at his campus and infer
in the event of an armed intruder,
the juniors would be the first to go
and uh oh there's no escape from the basement classrooms
because to them, the media is only fake news.
the clock is ticking
and i should be worrying about what i'm going to wear tomorrow
or if that boy i pass by in the halls will notice me
I should be staying up all night studying for chem
Instead of sobbing under my sheets at 1 AM
worrying if this day is going to be my last.
or if a gunman were to come he'll just walk past,
maybe forget why he's here or maybe he'll just disappear into thin air.
the clock is ticking
and i will not be silent.
because valentines are for chocolates and candy hearts
not the feeling of your soul get ripped apart
you knew this boy,
he might not have been your friend and to be honest you suspected
that he could be your end
the clock is ticking
and i will not be silent
because at concerts all you need to hear are beating drums
not the beating of your racing heart
as bullets reign from up in the sky, you sang of God only moments ago so why
is He punishing us like this?
The clock is ticking
And I will not be silent
because clubs are partying hard and spending the next morning in the bathroom
not cowering with 22 others in a bathroom stall
waiting for the gunfire to come to an end and you only came to have a nice night with your girlfriend
and you can't tell if this is her blood or yours
the clock is ticking
and the glass walls are shattering.
but my bullets are words
and i will not go down in silence.
Jayesh  Nov 2019
Jayesh Nov 2019
A clock has ticked⁣
For longer than I've known ⁣
Small sounds,⁣
Ones I've left ignored ⁣

They've been there⁣
Through it all ⁣
Silent companions ⁣
Ticking ticking ticking ⁣

It may have been simpler⁣
If they had remained so⁣
Accompanying travelers⁣
Treading along their own pace ⁣

I know not ⁣
When they began to slow⁣
a subtle change,⁣
Yet, one I couldn't help notice ⁣
Ticking ticking⁣

I felt them⁣
Crawling up⁣
Feeling them, truly ⁣
New faces, though somehow familiar ⁣

They soon began to still⁣
Settling into me⁣
Pinpricks portruding out⁣
Drawing out their own gore⁣
Ticking ⁣

Quite it's on pacemaker⁣
Counting down ⁣
To a demise, of sorts ⁣
One I can't ignore⁣
Atleast, not anymore ⁣

A beat with its own rhythm
Under it's own rule
Lotus Oct 2012
Within the enclosed
Walls of the
Windowless cell
Huddled in the corner
A man sits motionless

The coldness of the
Damp brick walls
Around him
Creep through his
Sweaty skin
Clogging the pores
Causing a fever

No window
Breaks the brick walls
Of the dwarf sized cell
No light
Just darkness
Ensnare the space
Around the cross-legged man

He feels his eyes
Will soon go blind
From the choked
Layer upon thick layer
Of blackness

He feels his skin
Will solidify
Into a frozen fever
Of cold
All the blood and veins
Slowly turning to crusts of nothing

These are terrible

Terrible as the jingle of
The key’s click
Meaning the door is locked
Not to be opened
Until his executioner
Decides is right

Terrible as the moment
He caught his last
Glimpse of the sun’s beams
Gifting the outside world with
Simple happiness

But neither of these
Could amount to
The horrifying
Sound of a single
Clock’s steady
Ticking away the minutes
And hours remaining of his life

The man sits
Sits and sits
Never moving
His ears are continuously
Invaded with this
How will he survive?

What seem
To be weeks pass
And he sits
In that same corner
On the edge of madness

And soon
He understands
To fall in love
With this sound
Is the key

He listens now
And soon
In place of the
The man in the
Windowless cell
Hears music

Soon an orchestra
Of deep fathomless cello
Smooth whispering piano
Melancholy violin
Echoes throughout the
Tunnels of this man’s ears

With music his companion
This man
Cross-legged in the corner
Of the windowless cell
Smiles to the
Through his sorrows
Im a ticking timebomb...
Beep beep beep
Any minute the emotions go...
Causing disturbance and watching it.....flow...
Beep beep beep
Each second the time goes down...
Im a ticking timebomb...
Beep beep beep
On one point ready to blow...
17... 16... 15...
The time slowly ticking down...
I fear as though my time is short...
Im a ticking timebomb...
Beep beep beep
Any minute the emotions go...
14... 13... 12...
My time is almost up...
I fear I won't say goodbye...
11... 10... 9...
I am a ticking time bomb...
Beep beep beep
Trying to stop my fuse....
8... 7... 6...
To find my life was a blast...
Time to sit back and give up...
5... 4... 3...
Its time for me to say my final goodbye....
2... 1...
I am a ticking time bomb...
Beep beep beep
On an endless trail of death although my life is short it was worth it...
I am a ticking time bomb...
Here to say I'm sorry...
The poem I am a ticking time bomb refers to the life of us slowly living our life slowly and in the end as we hit our last breath of air we apologize for all the wrong that we've done in our life.
The ticking of the clock
It's so annoying
It makes me shift
It drives me crazy

It always makes me wonder
When I'll be able to leave
The ticking of the clock
It's an agony

Why are you always here?
Here to bother me
The ticking of the clock
Thinks I'm full of pity

You were always there
And I didn't know why
The ticking of the clock
Cared for me and cried

Just as I was getting used to it
Day by day
The ticking of the clock
Turned slowly and walked away

I would always wish you gone
The room's now silent
But what I would give
To have the clock rewinded

You'll never know how much important someone is until you've lost him/her.
Mirlotta May 2015
Standing in the shadows is a lonely clock that's painted red
Made from blood and carved from bone - a clockwork core that's cold like lead.
A convoluted clockmaker sits wizened by its feet
He sits and thinks, nods and knows, the clock will not its maker meet.
He tells himself he's but an ember, tells his clock it will tick on
Wrapped in black like black's in fashion, with no heart save pendulum.
He knows the clock is icy fire, if he, the maker, is its spark
He looks upon his ticking beast and knows his hand has made its mark.
He lets his clock keep ticking, never stopping, won't tell why,
And its maker curls up on the floor; his final breaths are whimsic sighs.
His lonely clock keeps ticking, ticking, ticking - ticking, ticking still,
Standing regal in the shadowed room, but bending to its maker's will.
aar505n Apr 2014
Green walls and a monotone ticking inside my heart.
The ticking keeping everything from falling apart,
Continuous monotonous ticking.
A reminder of time passing,
of life moving on, but not me.
I am frozen in this green room,
aware of it all but stuck here.
Wanting you near,
Wanting but never getting.
All I get is a sad sigh as I listen to the ticking in my heart.
Craig Harrison Jan 2014
Ticking and tocking
ticking and tocking
watching the clock as it's ticking and tocking.
Every second that ticks on by, my time is running out
time to repent
time to be forgiven
and time to start over

The clock is ticking and tocking like it always does
a constant reminder my time is running out
no more years or months
no more weeks or days
no more hours or minutes only seconds remain

Ticking and tocking

— The End —