Five o'clock, im feeling down,
All i want is you around.
Six o'clock, i give you a call,
There is no answer at all...
Seven o'clock, i need you there,
With no hope left i sit and stare.
Eight o'clock, nothings changed,
Except a few things in my room i've re-arranged.
Nine o'clock, you're with her now,
I'll just ignore this somehow.
Ten o'clock, i begin to cry,
All i want to do is die,
Eleven o'clock, everyones asleep,
I reach for the pills, slowly, i creep.
Water in one hand, a ticket to peace in the other,
Mix the two together and it could all be over,
No more sitting,
No more crying,
No more failing whilst deaperately trying.
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Comments about this poem (Tick Tock by Lily Espinosa )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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