Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Time After Death

By , Reynolds, GA
Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock.
A clock ticking slowly, but so loud
like the heart with no beat now
Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock.
Make it stop, Make it stop!
the ticking of that d**n clock
she is dead, I know for sure
by the hate, I can't endure
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
blood drips from my fingertips
Sorry. Sorry. I must be
though I cannot see
why it should matter much to thee
Fear I see upon your face
though a tear I do not make
Tick, Tock. Tick, Tock.
says those hands, upon that clock.





Join the Discussion

This article has 1 comment. Post your own now!

sleeplessdreamer said...
Jul. 22, 2010 at 11:45 am
HAHA!!!! I love this. I wish you hadn't told me you weren't a crazy killer, it wouldn't have made it so much fun!! Just kidding, but in all seriousness, I love the rhythm of the "Tick. Tock."s and the "Drip. Drip"s, etc. Really well done.
 
bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback