Poem

TICK TICK the clock boomed

BUMP BUMP my heart knows that I’m doomed

After Honjung I
Gobbled a piece of bread
Chortled over a facebook chat that I read
Kept my eyes on Youtube videos played on
Admiring idol groups dancing on and on
Squealed with laughter watching comedy shows
While turning on the blaring music washing away my sorrows
Munched on precious snacks happily
Not long before racing to the toilet hastily
And yawned, glanced at the clock,
And gasped, it’s already ten o’ clock.

It’s time to grab the pen.

But the pen does not hiss on the paper of white;

It ticks Tick Tock

On the table of timber
And tick Tick Tock
Goes the clock of glass.

Please, Mercy!
I plead to the clock.
Yet, time, master of clocks—
He answers to no one—oh, this chronic cry;
Tick Tock.

Stopped, silent, sudden.

Abrupt, alienated, astounded I was.
No sound was there
To fill this void place,
No movement was there
To energize the god of chaos.
But still,
The wrinkles,
Eyebrows,
Fingers of mine
Were still moving.

 The wrinkles were craved deeper and deeper by the time.

The time I was born,
The time I went to school
The time I graduated
The time I had my first career
The time I got married
The time I had my first child
The time I retired from the society
The time I had my first grand child
The time I had a cancer
The time I, now, have to pack my moments of the life I dare cherished.

Hey you in the back there!!

The sharp shriek of Ms. Winer’s voice pierced through all ten desks in front of me and reached my ears.