The clocks a ticking on the wall,
Counting down my life,
Witness to unhappiness,
Onlooker at strife.
The walls, I feel them closing in,
A solid, concrete vice,
How far I now have fallen,
From the days of Sugar Mice.
Confusion is at times the best,
My life has got to offer,
Devoid of gold and treasure,
I view the empty coffer.
My mind it fights a silent war,
Externally no sound,
No escape from inner hate,
For to it, I’m bound.
None can see the turmoil,
Fewer still would care,
For it would remind them,
Of a place they would not dare,
To go, for similarity,
Brings only further pain,
Sharing all afflictions,
Lessens, brings no gain.
My silent watcher taunts me,
It’s face, two handed sneer,
It cares not for my fate,
Or if my end be near.
I beat myself, I hurt myself,
It’s all I do deserve,
My strength in fighting back is gone,
In truth, I’ve lost my nerve.
I’m slipping slowly through the cracks,
To disappear from view,
And nobody could save me,
My love, not even you.
