Freedom Clock

The clock tics and toks
Hands around the wall
Journing nowhere
Like a clichèd psycho
Mind a broken record
That clock tells a lie.

Captured wonderer 
In wayless roam
So is that clock
In its ticking stroam

Mine is a rooster
That daily awakens 
All before day break
To take up loads
For the daily roam

Yours tics in minutes
Mine dawns with sun
I dont waste any
In sunlight slumber
For the cock crows
To remind me of freedom.

Whenever it crows
I know freedom calls
For a sweet sweat
I get as i work.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

Poem

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Machiri Avatar
October 17, 2020 at 4:31 AM
Great piece dzvanya ipapo
Mavaza Avatar
October 17, 2020 at 6:04 AM
Thanx mate... nacho nacho
One Avatar
October 16, 2020 at 11:28 AM
Great analogy..
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