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tick tock

The clock on the wall mocks me
With its simple gears and a helpful wind
A drop of oil here and there
It will pass the time relentlessly
Never having to stop and rest
It ticks through the hours precise
Telling each with a simple chime
A masterful bandit indeed
As each moment passed is one moment less
For me
I will stop telling time long before my clock
I will have no oil to undo my stop
Or a spirit hand to wind me back
To telling time
The simple clock will chime away
Long after I pass this way

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Autres oeuvres par Norman Goldstein...



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