The clock,
The hands tick as each second passes.
Tick, Tick, Tick.
Hurry now, can't run out of time
We got to be fast,
Time is at our demise.
Tick, Tick, Tick.
The hand is inching closer,
We must not let it hit 12.
The days are scattered and now we've got no time to flatter.
Tick, Tick, Tick.
Run! The hand is at the number 11!
We've wasted too much,
Pointless things have been done,
We should have been more mindful of time.
Tick, Tick, Tick.
Oh, oh no.
The bell, the clock struck 12.
Our time is up.
This is our doing,
Don't try and blame the others.
No progress,
Nothing achieved.
Was this time a wasted hell hole of events?
What was our full potential?
We'll never know,
For our time is up.
YOU ARE READING
My Poetry
PoetryMost of this is sad, any TW will be at the start of them I'm a 16 y/o just wanting to share some of my poetry with people other than my friends :] (Also feel free to comment any tips and how I could improve on my writing!)
