Tick tock tick tock
Tock tick
The second hand of my watch
Is playing a beat similar to beat of my heart
Forcing my hands to dance across
The groves of this paper
Forming words that will later be the meat of a poem.
The explanation of what makes me feel the way I do,
What causes me to write poetry in this form.
The sensual,  sexual feeling inside
That causes me to rise.
The rage, aggression and chaos
That causes words to fill the page as I cry.

Tick tock, tick tock
Tock tick
goes time trying
to pass me by
escaping me as I

Standing  here day dreaming
wishing to spread my arms
like wings and fly like an

Eagle soaring through the sky aimlessly
Leaving this world behind…

Tick tock, tick tock
Tock tick
Again that sound vibrates through my bones.
My fingers grip this pen
My eyes focus on this page
Words, letters and phrases
Embrace themselves between the lines
And the anatomy of mind is exposed
Feelings revealed
The other side of me shown
To the reader or those that just hear
My words, see me as deeply distraught
Or plainly ingenious, cause the
Tick tock never stops
Whether the beat of my heart
Or the voice in my head…
TICK TOCK TICK TOCK
is all I ever hear…

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