Tick, tick, tick
The chaos of the mind
As life avoids refined
Begins to wear away
The loving and the lay
The spirit of the post
Becomes a witless boast
A canticle of little meaning
A peacock's wit unfit for preening
A way to waste some time
No meaning and no rhyme
Just a way to cruise along
Make a ditty into song
The ticking of a clock that rides the tides
Just tricking all the stock as time abides
It's really no fun at all
I became bored with it lifetimes ago
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