The Clock. Poem by Sandra Kavanagh Josefsson

The Clock is ticking loud and clear,
as it always does in the hallway.
And as each second and minute disappears,
we know this time is lost for always.

We cannot get it back.
We can just remember how it was.
We can remember the lack,
or begin to fill it up with fun days.

For the Clock it ticks for no one,
it has a life of its own.
The hands they keep on turning,
round and round they go.

So let us fill our hours, days and nights,
with laughter, smiles and joys.
The clock it can keep ticking
and we won't mind the noise.

Verse: Sandra Kavanagh (c) .