Clocks

As the ticks by -
hanging ever so gracefully on the wall -
it laughs in my face
and the numbers melt down the old plaster.
There's still so much that I wish to do.
What shall I choose
for the clock that ticks as
the metranome for my life?
The natural rhythm of my sanity
is kept by the persistant ticking.
So much to get done
and so many people to please.
Nothing is as easy as it ever was
now that the clock is ticking
faster and faster out of time.
Soon my clock will stop, buzz
and wake me up from this nightmare of a dream.
and open my eyes to the colorful world
and close the door on the monotonous work
of those that came before me.

I just want to live and make my own path in the forest of life and find my own clock to march to the ticking to.