In Memoriam: The Missing Clock
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In Memoriam: The Missing Clock
The Missing Clock
The Missing Clock, it tells no time,
Its hands don't move, its bells don't chime
In time, but it ticks, and sometimes tocks,
It’s never silent, the Missing Clock.
There is no wall to attach itself,
No wrist, no tower, no mantle shelf.
I heard it first when I knew you’d gone
It smashed into me, and it weighed a ton.
For a while The Missing Clock warped time,
And held me in a unjust crime,
Reassuring me, none of the time,
Hanging in space, with nowhere to climb.
In moments when I feel you here
The Missing Clock will just appear,
Loudly ticking in my ears
Driving through me like a spear.
Sometimes it’s quiet, a distant sound,
I barely hear it, as we move around,
But with just one word, or thought or tear,
It reminds me that you were, once, my dear.
Sometimes its hour is an eerie bliss
When I can sit and reminisce
And smile within at who I miss,
Precious, these moments, gone, the abyss.
They say that time heals and stuff,
I don’t think it does, it’s just a bluff,
What people say, off the cuff
With love, to help when you’re feeling rough.
But I now know that the clock is theirs,
With each of them, and they cannot bear
To let me know that it’ll never leave,
That new time must be made to grieve.
But grieve I must, and keep you dear,
For you were once my friend and peer,
My love for you won’t disappear,
Like moments in time, lost in tears.
The Missing Clock is now part of me,
The newest branch of my evolving tree,
It grows and tick-tocks over me,
And has a chat over a cup of tea.
The presence of The Missing Clock
feels just like an aftershock,
Pulsing constantly, tick and tock,
But I never want to hear it stop
Written by Jay in Memory of BertieThe Missing Clock, it tells no time,
Its hands don't move, its bells don't chime
In time, but it ticks, and sometimes tocks,
It’s never silent, the Missing Clock.
There is no wall to attach itself,
No wrist, no tower, no mantle shelf.
I heard it first when I knew you’d gone
It smashed into me, and it weighed a ton.
For a while The Missing Clock warped time,
And held me in a unjust crime,
Reassuring me, none of the time,
Hanging in space, with nowhere to climb.
In moments when I feel you here
The Missing Clock will just appear,
Loudly ticking in my ears
Driving through me like a spear.
Sometimes it’s quiet, a distant sound,
I barely hear it, as we move around,
But with just one word, or thought or tear,
It reminds me that you were, once, my dear.
Sometimes its hour is an eerie bliss
When I can sit and reminisce
And smile within at who I miss,
Precious, these moments, gone, the abyss.
They say that time heals and stuff,
I don’t think it does, it’s just a bluff,
What people say, off the cuff
With love, to help when you’re feeling rough.
But I now know that the clock is theirs,
With each of them, and they cannot bear
To let me know that it’ll never leave,
That new time must be made to grieve.
But grieve I must, and keep you dear,
For you were once my friend and peer,
My love for you won’t disappear,
Like moments in time, lost in tears.
The Missing Clock is now part of me,
The newest branch of my evolving tree,
It grows and tick-tocks over me,
And has a chat over a cup of tea.
The presence of The Missing Clock
feels just like an aftershock,
Pulsing constantly, tick and tock,
But I never want to hear it stop
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