Im bleeding out,

Im breaking down,

My mind is gone,

And I haven't slept for



Tic-tock goes the clock,


Tic-tock till I die,


Why follow the clock,

When time is a made up thing

A hoax, an illusion, a fraud,


But yet it runs our lives 

Like money,

Money is just green paper,


Yet we follow the clock,

To the second 

So we wont be late,

Late to work to make our 

Green paper,


We need green paper,

To buy a house,

To buy food,

To buy a car,

So we can work our lives away,

To make more green paper,


Im sure you've thought about it to,

Tic-tock goes the illusion,

Chiching goes the fraud,


So why follow the hoax,

Going tick-tock till you die,

Because you have to!

That's why!


You have no choice

And neither do I


So you can't help!

Im going to bleed out,

Im going to break down,

And im going to continue

On this sleepless path of 



Im going to die

That's a fact,


In fact so are you,


So tick-tock...


  • rrodriguez

    Wow I love your poem... so realist! I wrote about time I'm one of my poems Time comes to my living room. Excellent!

    • My_Brain


    • willyweed

      the sand fall through the hour glass
      you are very wise you see
      excellent piece. ww

    • Tony36

      Awesome and expressed write

    • Augustus

      This is a sentiment being expressed more these days as we spend half or more of our lives working for someone else. You express it well.

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