Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
The repetitiveness is getting to my head.Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
Sometimes it would be better if I were dead.They wind me up without an end.
I wasn't built for this, my friend.
Tell them to stop, I ask of you.
And while you're at it, how about you?No one to guide, my partner is gone;
Chasing a prize she has not won.
To come any nearer you must be cautious,
For all this spinning will make you nauseous.We were happy, Hand in Hand;
Then a viewer took a stand.
A.m., p.m., we're all condemned,
For in the rust there is no gem.She returns! It's true. Aha, at last!
Yet something is different; she turns too fast,
Almost as if to run away.
And she never asked if I was okay...So many things I wish to do,
And the only one who knew was you.
We can't, you claimed, other things to face.
Go meet this person, go see this place.I debate my long-term recluse
For time has damaged; a spring is loose.
Any more of this and I'm sure to blow.
My breaking point? I do not know.Much more of this I cannot take.
Soon comes an end, when I will break.
You try to assess as you dig and delve,
Only to find that I just struck twelve.
YOU ARE READING
XII
PoetryDISCLAIMER: The opinions and events described in this poem are exaggerated and not necessarily my opinions or events that I have experienced.