Johnny used to while away his days
and spend his nights in a sleepless haze,
trying to filter out the screams
and separate reality from dreams.
Eventually he´d venture out
and try to keep his demons down,
doughnuts filled with chocolate cream would soothe him
in between.

And he waited
for his hour.
And he waited
for his time to come.

Then one day a package came,
on the front it bore his name,
sent without return address
it sat unopened in his desk.

Still he waited
for his hour.
Still he waited
for his time to come.

Finally he could take no more.
He pulled the package from the drawer,
shred the wrapper, clawed the box
and found inside a mantel clock.
Suffice to say he was perturbed
the sender must have been disturbed.
Contrary to the time´s demand the
useless object, had no hands.

Still he waited...

© 2009 Barry Smith