I hear the tick tock of the clock in my head.
Filling a space where my thoughts collide,
this last gasp before the cold sets in
No tea leaves to tell me what comes next
I have kept silent to keep out of the cross hairs
only I do not know if that is enough
or should I run around like a chicken without a head
announcing my sky is falling,
or stick my head in a hole in the ground
and hope nobody notices my butt sticking up in the air,
a perfect target for someone to kick
as if the tick of the clock I hear in my head
is really the tick of a time bomb about to go off
can I trust time to heal old wounds
or will they fester and get worse
even when I dive for cover
I still hear the ticking and feel
my heart beat keeping time to the ticking
which ever way it goes, good or bad
or maybe nothing at all
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