Striking Twelve

As a child in his grandmother's house
He could never fall asleep
Until her great grandfather clock
Had struck midnight,
Its booms echoing in his ears.
Now he had to try to sleep with a new booming in his ears;
The sound of gunfire and granades striking noon
To his fear.

'Take me back to the old clock! ' he sobbed in half-sleep
On this last day of his very young life.

He died with the clock still on his mind,
But this time there was no Nana to hear his screams,
To put her arms around him to make
Everything 'tickety-boo'.

by Jacques du Lumerie

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