THE OLD CLOCK

THE ANCIENT CLOCK IN THE HALL
MALAISELY STARING AT US
LIKE AN OLD PORTRAIT ON THE WALL.

HE WAS BOUGHT BY A YOUNG RICH MAN
AND KEPT IN HIS BEAUTIFULLY
ADORNED HALL BY THE DOOR.
THE CLOCK STARTED TICKING
FIFTY YEARS AGO
AND STILL HE TICKS ON AND ON
AWAITING HIS DEATH.

HE HAD SEEN HIS MASTER
DYING SLOWLY IN FRONT OF HIS EYES
AND STILL HE HANGS
FAITHFULLY IN THE HALL
WAITING FOR HIS MASTER
WHO WILL NEVER RETURN.


HE CAN SEE THE TALL MAGNOLIA
THROUGH THE SMALL WINDOW
IN THAT DEATHLY BUNGLaw
FILLED WITH FILTH AND DIRT.

THE OLD CLOCK ON THE WALL
HAS STARTED TO GET WORN OUT
AND ALL THE MEMORIES FLASH
THROUGH HIS MIND
HIS MASTER’S DEATH
RACED THROUGH HIS MIND
AND THAT WAS THE MOMENT WHEN
A LIGHTNING OF SORROW
STRUCK HIM HARD
AND THE GLASS COVER CRACKED
THE PENDULUM BROKE
AS THE NAIL BECAME LOOSE
THE CLOCK STARTED TILTING
SUDDENLY THE DOOR WAS KNOCKED
AND PUSHED OPEN
CLOCK WITH HIS DIM EYES SAW A BOY
STANDING AT DOOR BUT
IT WAS TOO LATE AS THE CLOCK
CRASHED TO THE FLOOR
AND HIS LONG AWAITED DEATH TOOK HIM AWAY.