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Poetry: Clocks

by Max Grim

Created on: August 05, 2011   Last Updated: August 09, 2011

The old grandfather clock.
Passed down through the years.

tick tock,
tick tock.

Such a calming sound.
With nothing but time,
I watch my hours pass.
The gentle swinging,
of the golden pendulum.

Time passes,
with each tick.

How many more chimes,
will toll for me?

The Angel of Death,
sits in the shadows,
watching my hours pass.

Tick tock,
tick tock.


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