Time The clock it ticks The time it sticks The light it shifts But he still feels sick The hours seem slow Minutes don't flow Seconds are few But it still shows The time it passes The clock harasses The day travels Slower than molasses Time seems dead Frozen in his head The day has no end Exactly what he dreads Moments last forever He wants them severed Like with a cleaver And get his mind together Tomorrow may go easier Time may pass in a blur Tomorrow is still so far Until then, he just Grrrs A normal paced day Nothing to make him gray It would be great For now he will pray ©Schizology Time #Time #clock #poem✍🧡🧡💛
