"Time" - A Poem

I hear the ticking of the clock
hung on the kitchen wall.
I hear the beating of my heart,
as time, it slowly crawls.

Days drag on, with no relief
to help me cope with all the grief
I've stored up. It's my belief,
we all suffer much the same.

My own footsteps, when I walk,
going nowhere - silence talks.
While all about me darkness stalks,
In the end - it's just a game.

The illustration is Salvador Dali's "The Persistence of Memory" - 1931