Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock.
So fleeting is the time.
The bills to pay, the clothes to wash,
and the kids to bed by nine.
Where do I find the time?

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.
Oh, where do the hours go?

Unfinished chores throughout my day,
and many more to sow.
Ten minutes till I’m out the doe.

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.
This tick let’s me know I’m still alive.
I’ve got appointments to set,
papers to sign,
and kids to get at 2: 45….
Dang.. I’m out of time…

Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.
Please somebody break the clock.

I wish this time would pass me not,
if there was only one sound to block….
TICK-TOCK, Tick-tock, tick-tock…

Mother of 3 and a wife to only one. My life before my family: like someone threw me in a whole and dared me to dig out. And the Rhymes were my road. And on each word I stepped out… but don’t quote me.. I’ve been writing since 8 years old. I’m now 31. With boxes, and boxes of stored writing.

Amanda Graham

Amanda Graham

Editor at NY Literary Magazine
Amanda holds an M.A. in History. She loves well-written poetry and romance novels. Amanda has 2 cats and a 3-year-old son.
Amanda Graham