Tick goes the clock in the corner of your room.
Tick... Tick... Tick...
How many seconds have passed you can not say.
Time is but an unreal concept
That the mystery of night does not know.
As if it refuses to accept time as its neighbor.
Tick... Tick... Tick...
You think to yourself,
"Who uses traditional clocks anymore?"
And smile in your own amusement.
You know it is only to pass the time
That night keeps hidden from you.
Tick... Tick... Tick...
You try to get comfortable in your big bed made for two
And try not to acknowledge that you are sleeping alone.
The air suddenly became chilled,
You wished he was here with you again
But quickly shake off the sadness.
He is gone and you know nothing can be done.
Tick... Tick... Tick...
Reaching out and over to a bed side table,
You grasp a small cellphone.
Just wanting to see his face again...
You flip the phone open slowly.
The time is 3:00 AM
And the picture of his obituary drowns the background.
Tick... Tick... Tick...
You close the phone and quietly set it down,
Wondering if you will ever stop waking
At the time of his demise.
