The Bellman

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Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
The clock strikes four.
Ding, Dong. Ding, Dong.
What makes the bells ring so?
Perhaps a little man lives between the cogs and wheels.
His name, unknown.
His purpose, very apparent.
Maybe he watches the hands of the clock all day.
The seconds tick by slowly.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Then, when it's almost five,
He'd get excited.
When the minute hand finally makes its way to the twelve,
I smile would pass over his lips.
The bell rings again.
Ding, Dong. Ding, Dong. Ding,
Then he'd sit down and await the next hour.





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Powd3er said...
Mar. 5, 2010 at 11:19 am
This poem has great flow and insight.
I really enjoyed it.
Lovely poem darling =]
-Please check out the works that I have posted on here it would be highly appreciated and I think you would greatly enjoy them, Thankk youz-
XxIll tell you Im an orphan after you meet myy familyXx
 
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