Pendulum,
pendulum,
why do you swing?

You never warn me
when you do your thing:
sometimes a nightmare,
sometimes a dream,

I always laugh
when I want to scream.
Tick. Tock.
I love my clock.
I feel the rhthym
and gently rock.

I pretend not to see it
coming this way;

where can I hide
from the pendulum’s sway?

LEIGH S.