The time is just past 3 AM.

but I don't really care -

except the ticking of the clock

is more than I can bear.

The pendulum swings back and forth.

It doesn't ever sleep.

And neither have I had a wink,

(though I have counted sheep).

The tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick

is all it ever does.

A cuckoo clock is all it is

and all it ever was.

It can't jump off the wall and run.

That little bird can't fly.

She hasn't helped a single soul.

She's not as good as I.

So should I take her insults too?

She makes my stomach sour.

She says that I am cuckoo ev'ry

hour on the hour...

A burst of great emotions come

whenever she pops out -

and tells me I am cuckoo 'till

it makes me want to shout.

But then she sneaks back in her home

and shuts her little door.

If only she could stay in there,

and not pop out at 4.

Her strong opinion does not change

and I know it won't end -

but I'll forgive that little bird.

She really is my friend.

And so I pull the weights back up

to give her one more day

to tell me I am cuckoo, 'cause -

that's all that she can say.

©2015 louis gander