Tick tock, tick tock,

The clock would drone on.

My back to it’s looming, glooming presence; staring at me with it’s cold inevitable stare.

I try to look at it, catch it in the act, but it’s not there.

I’ve gone mad, I think, but then I hear it again,

Tick tock, tick tock.

I spin around, and I see it, there!

Just as it hides behind the grandfather clock.