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Click hereMy mind is like a clock
Sometimes if overwound
With springs stretched
A screeching "cuckoo"
As the hour is reached
Racing hands on the dial
Tick tock tick tock tick tock
Pounding loud as I think
Occasionally I lose time
If I forget to wind again
Taking the key, turning it
Hear the little cogs whirring
The gears starting to move
Creaking a lot,so oil a little
Needs more frequent cleaning
Excuse the many cobwebs
The housemaid is on strike
When thinking doesn't time fly
My mind clock chimes away
Keeping good time for now
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 35,000 poems.
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