Tick tock, the sound of the clock

Heart thumping the passage of time

Can’t hold it back the motion right

Time; sense and fun, a perfect rhyme



My thoughts drift and I wonder yonder

Of Old hags cooking with legs asunder

Roasting corn for the tots to grind

A bundle of joy I will never find



Just my mythical haloed innocence

Interred deep by my insolence

Hides the ashened residue of my soul

Incarcerated never to burn



Head in my knees days gone by keep me by

Microsecond for what it is, never to fly

Broken dreams mine to keep

Two more weeks then I can sleep

dave harry

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/broken-dreams-56/