Each day is a reminder,

That the future is near.

The unfamiliar life,

And the one she holds dear.  

The grandfather clock is ticking away.

Marking the hours,

Counting the days,

Until she graduates.

As seconds trickle by,

Then minutes and hours,

The days speed by, a torrent of time

The weights of the machinery pulling at her mind.

The clock watches the girl.

Everyday she smiles,

But under her calm,

Her mind is her trial.

A divided path: 

School, job, and music.

Everyday she has class,

But she feels discorded.

The clock continues to follow her.

The tick tocking speeding up.

However she wishes that time would stop.

The next chapter of the book is still unknown.

The constant talks of her future

She wishes were fewer.

What major to choose and

What school to decide.

The lull of the clock

Like a sweet berceuse 

As the clock was nearing its tock,

The girl snapped off her mental lock.

Her feet now move to the beat of the clock,

Instead of tuning it out, as if it were a block.

The pendulum of the clock.

The constant cadence repeating.

The gears are connected,

Twisting and turning.

Graduation is no longer a threat.

A new beginning, not an end.

The clock joins her journey.

Still watching the girl,

Together, hand in hand.