By Andy Kennedy
While I was lying in hospital with nothing to do I was watching the second hand on the clock up on the wall. As I watched it ticking its way around I thought,
that’s my life ticking away, each tick is another second of my life gone and I thunk this poem up. I hope you like it.
When YOU are young in pre school days, you do not have a care,
But things will change and very soon, of this you’re unaware,
The first day that you go to school, so shy but quite enthralled,
The first thing that you notice is the clock upon the wall.
As you do your school work you will long to go and play,
But if you misbehave in class, then inside you must stay,
It’s not what you imagined, you don’t like this at all,
And all the while your eyes are on, the clock upon the wall.
A clock will feature largely as you tread the path of life,
Time alone will heal the scars of trouble and of strife,
On leaving school you get a job, you feel like you’re a thrall, (slave)
More surreptitious glances at the clock upon the wall.
You finish work, go to the pub to wash away your sorrow,
You will endure the drudgery of work again tomorrow,
Is there time for one more pint before the Landlord’s call,
Once again you fix your gaze, on the clock upon the wall.
When you’ve worked for fifty years and feel you’ve done your bit,
Your joints are sore, your breathing strained, you know it’s time to quit,
You check on your finances, get your pension book and all,
Now there’s plenty time to watch the clock upon the wall.
A clock is like an egg timer, which tells when eggs are done,
Our life is timed just like an egg from the day it has begun,
The ticking is our ebbing life, whilst waiting for the call,
To head for Heaven where there’ll be….no clock upon the wall.
Guest poem by @Liz