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Writer's pictureMartin Pickard

Tick Tock

The bitter truth measures my day

in pills swallowed and rules followed

I medicate as hours dictate

and the tyranny of timers

as on and off I alternate

Shouldn’t let these things define us

The hands move smoothly round the clock

till grams flow through me mine do not

Tick and tock and sound the alarm

Blister packed, it’s time to rearm

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