I consume time, as I march at a steady beat.
I may seem fearsome, but you I will not eat.
I once was a multitude, in times long past,
But now I am encased in gold and glass.

Tick tock tick tock
There goes the clock 

Busy with ticking away
Every second of the day
Giving a sound to time
Indicating day or nighttime

Tick tock tick tock
There goes the clock

Its hands are clapping 
While time is unwrapping 
Clapping on the beat
Every second never offbeat

Tick tock tick tock
There goes the clock

It seems to go so fast
When you're having a blast
Other times not at all
Time then just seems to crawl

Tick tock tick tock
There goes the clock

Again I give a big sigh
Trying hard to deny
That another day went by
Another day to say goodbye

Tick tock tick tock
There goes the clock

Shadows come dancing,
and twilight draws near.
But your tiny candle smiles,
and scares away your fears.
And as I wait, with the moonlight
ever gleaming,
I can't help but ask,
"What are you dreaming?"

Are you a man,
traveling to the ends of the earth?
Or are you a boy,
sleeping delicately by the hearth?

Are you a knight,
following the morning lark?
Or are you a sailor,
preparing to embark?

Are you a wizard,
muttering your wild spells?
Or are you a warrior,
seeking out violence to quell?

Are you a gardener,
caressing sweet leaves of thyme?
Or are you a troubadour,
weaving together blissful rhymes?

Are you a king,
childishly ruling over your courts?
Or are you a fool,
commanding the jokes the aristocrats afford?

And yet, I can only ask,
of the thoughts in your mind,
as I continue with my task,
of watching over time.

There goes the clock

Counting down the minutes
you have left to spend
Counting down the time
you wasted on your dimes

Now it comes back to haunt you
*Tick tock, tick tock

He told me that
Ivy bags never feel as good as shooting up,
Watching the needle slide into his arm.
Watching his liquid life drip from a
Plastic bag
Into the tube.

The first time he overdosed his friends were so scared
They left him to the dogs.
On the side of the road,
In a fit of rambling and cold sweat.
The sweat, everywhere
The cold was deeper in his bones.

The second time he was at his Mothers house.
She wanted so badly to see the little
Boy she once
Held to her breast.
But looked down on his shaking  
Ashamed to not recognize the body at her feet.

By the third time
He had no one left.
They classified him as a lonely addict,
Addicted to several deadly drugs.

At some point he realized he wasn't going to have
The wake up moment.
He was never going to bounce back from this
Swallowing sleep
Consuming his life one second at a time.
Ticking away he is lost to the sound of the clock
He says the rhythm puts him to sleep

He told me ivy bags never felt as good as shooting up
But sometimes the clock in the hospital would break
And he could pretend
He didn't ever feel the time.

this weekend with you went by so fast,
each moment suddenly in the past.
perhaps it speeds up
to make up for time you've stopped.
or maybe it's letting us pass
because it knows we'll last.

The clock has run out of hours.
The ocean was beckoned by Poseidon.
The torn plucked berries of poison.
I was never going to be yours.

The gravity kept us grounded.
The roses bloomed till its death.
The clouds had finally wept.
*I was left wounded.

A Thin business man
With two big sons
One short, one long
Helping him daily
From one to twelve
He running faster
When his sons
One after the other
Day and night
Taking a break,the
Sons together at twelve
Deciding routines
Of humans on earth