More poems by gilda8607

Paranoia

When it's quiet I can hear the ticking
....second.... to.....second
sounds that linger in the mind
rather than my ear.
This ticking is sharp and cold,
it is hard...
...it frightens me.

Like a clock counting down,
__but to what end?
When the tick tock stops,
what will die out with it?
__Perhaps deep inside I already know,
__but I hope never to find out...
Poem by gilda8607