The Tomorrow Hour

The ordinary clock
ticking, 
tick tock, tick tock.
My mind is held,
my body is wound

my key turned, 

to make me work.

I wait, helplessly,
for the hands to point,
to thirteen.

The mindlessness
is breaking me,
and in each rise and fall,
I only fall.
My limbs tire,
but my geared mind,
it just won't let go.

So I wait,
mechanically,
stuck in a today 

that will never end

and a tomorrow

that will never come, while the ticking,
it goes on, 
a sinister
tick tock, tick tock.

© Utsa Seth, 2018