Go Round in Circles

Tick-Tock, tick-tock
whirs the clock

Untroubled by any man‘s will
but ogled by every man’s eye
time stands still
as seconds fly by

Ick-Ock, ick-ock
stirs the cock

there comes along the suited ape
who calls himself nature’s prime
aroused on sight of any shape
instantly, since ancient time

Knick-Knock, knick-knock
lift the frock

what’s beneath the shell?
the hunter ever since!
who cannot spell
but makes them wince

Hick-Hock, hick-hock
wants a flock

fruits all over on display
in fancy wraps, stockpiled tight
next to cores cast away
tossed aside, after just one bite

Dick-Dock, dick-dock
harem livestock

grabbed and shed in back room deals
to feed the never sated, well-fed pest
broken dreams in concrete heels
that wished to run, but cannot rest

Sick-Sock, sick-sock
trips over rock

what goes around? A sleaze!
what comes around? The past!
As he falls to his knees
dominance withers fast

Pick-Pock, pick-pock
bears a mock

the dickhead whines, “Ma’am,
it must be understood,
I cannot change what I am,
the treadmill is driven by the brotherhood.”

Tick-Tock, tick-tock
whirs the clock

time to turn the page
pristine, letters to be written
prospects of a new age
with every one to fit in?