The Time Clock - Poem by Jean Clifford
Don't you just hate it?
That horrible clock on the wall?
When you punch in or out, your time put in,
It never lies at all...
Sometimes to arrive a little late,
and run all the way down the hall,
only to find, you're a minute or two late,
How we detest that thing on the wall.
And when we get done early,
we cannot punch out right away,
or we won't get all our time deserved to us,
so we stand all in a line, with nothing to say.
But the minute that it says the right time,
we are all scrambling for that thing,
And heaven forbid if someones in our way,
The minute it starts to ring.
Comments about The Time Clock by Jean Clifford
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Jean Clifford's Other Poems
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You