Tick Tock ©

I hear the subtle horns of the night's bregade.
The tick tock of the invisible clock.
Oh woe as me with a worrisome heart.
These fretful thoughts that do invade...
I leave the windows open to let in the breeze.
How it tumbles and toils with a menacing speed.
I hear breaking glass however so faint.
It's only my mind so destructive and quaint.
Why oh why must disaster be bred in this worrisome heart and restless head.

By Jeannette Villatoro ©