Clockwork

Tick, Tick, Tick

Time chimes by

Tenth hour, eleventh, twelfth: a new day

The minute finished, unable to be changed

The word spoken, unable to be taken back

Yesterday gone, unable to be grasped

The memories finished, unable to be relived

Tock, Tock, Tock

Time resounding back

Twelve, eleven, ten: transported to yesteryear

Able to be observed are those backyard summers

Able to be seen are the drawings done in chalk

Able to be heard are the shrieks and laughs of kids

The moments replay, able to be remembered

Whether tick, tick, tick or tock, tock, tock

Time is a gift which flees and flies

Evades and Hides

So grasp the minutes, every second

Hold on tight to the details

Make sure every memory is as you want it to be replayed

Because rarely do the clocks chime backwards

Never are you able to change the past

And you never know which moments could be your very last

Tick, Tock

The chimes become distant and soft

But never do they ever stop

Even when one can hear them no longer

Time continues on forever