Tick Tock, Two Minutes
The minute hand is ticking: two minutes can you find me? No you can't!
There goes another second; time is wasting. Time is scant.
Run into the store, the office, home, and building.
Check the drawers, check the floorboards, every fringe, knit, and gilding.
Tick, tock, tick, tock. One minute. Lives are on the line.
Oh, come on, don't let me win. Soon those lives will be mine.
Call every little number on your phone, and hear it dial.
There all gone. They won't answer-you won't see them for a while.
Fifty seconds, run, run, run, your friend picked up the phone
You have a rendezvous. You decided: you will both meet at home.
Twenty seconds, come on. They might have the locations.
The places where your friends might pass; where you offer your vocations
Ten seconds, almost there. You're playing with the lock.
You can hear them inside, you're frantic; you pound, and do not knock
Seven seconds, the door opens, and seeing their body you jump into their hold.
Six seconds, tears are falling down your face. Your hands are growing cold.
Five seconds, you give up even though you think I never got your final friend.
Four seconds, you embrace them tightly, knowing others' lives are coming to an end.
Three seconds, you looked up into the eyes of the only one you have left.
The one you claim took your heart with, sly and warming theft
Two seconds, and oh, so slowly you notice something strange.
One second, the one you love is smiling as if something's been arranged.
The one you see and love begins to hold you tightly.
They have no reason to frown, or cry. The act would be unsightly.
They know every last person you know is resting now in bed.
They're watching as the idea sets in, and settles in your head.
You try to scream, but it's too late as they pull you into the dark:
An unnoticed crime.
I check my watch as I shut the door. Oh, will you look at that?
You got here just on time.