My heart ticks with my bedside clock,
The two friends keep in time;
I watch my own chest rise and fall
And my mind sits, maligned;
I’m asked each day how I am doing,
And never tell the truth;
One’s own burdens can’t a find place
Of comfort amidst youth;
I’m too young to be tired!
Oh, I wish that this was true;
And yet there is a medicine
for all ailment, but you;
You imbed yourself inside my heart;
Why do you hold so tight?
You grip me in a manic way,
Si I can’t fix this plight;
Perhaps it is me, all this time,
Who can’t seem to let go;
Just like the rhythm in my bedside clock,
Which I turned off hours ago.