I hear the tick tock
Coming from the clock on the wall
My fingers lock
As I wait for the call
The call that's going to kick
Me and my little ones out on the street
We'll be forced out into the rain
The snow
The sleet
We'll be forced out into the cold
And the heat
We'll no longer have a roof
Over our head
My little ones will no longer
Have a warm bed
No more hot meals
Or toys
Or books to be read
As all these things
Run through my mind
I listen to the tick tock
Coming from the clock on the wall
My fingers lock
As I wait for the call.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem