With the dying of that happy day
I wished time did not exist.
I prayed the ticking of the clock
would falter, would desist.
And as the Analog continued,
Tick tick tick ticktick,
it seemed to speed up- mocking me!
And evil, nasty trick!
My happy feelings turned to that
of anger, hot and bold!
And up I stood, my finger jabbed
at the clock that I'd been sold.
“What right have you” half-yelled half-moaned,
I raged to this goad-like tool.
“to go on ticking, oh so proud?
Your sounds, they spell out 'fool'!”
And then I sat with a great big huff
and laid my head in hand.
For ten minutes passed so very fast!
The cadence seemed a band!
And while I sat in long despair,
my anger I could taste.
The ticking changed to something else.
I heard the one word- “Waste.”