The Clock

Tick, a year flies, strikes, lands a blow.

Tick, a realization a second world of flesh and bones.

Tick, the smiles of faces who want to match the puzzle.

Silence, then all you see is you,

the ticks are gone, the flesh is only flesh.

The beat of hearts is missing, 

My pulsating heart when laying in bed alone.

Only me, only I. 

Then pain in other faces,

frowns in other flesh.

Flesh becomes a heart.

The heart becomes a treasure to battle for and live,

to grow up with the racing of a ghostly clocks tick.