Poem: Tick Tock

Tick tock, around the clock, the mouse went down in a hurry.
Eleven past midnight, it will soon be twelve in a flurry.
My legs won't move fast enough for the chase.
What should I do in this case?
Where is my cane? 
Where is the hook?
Why do I have to get out of here so quickly? Now look!

It won't answer me, the clock that ticks, and the mouse is gone.
It's fifteen past midnight, soon enough dawn.
I'm still trying to find my wooden cane.
The one given to me as a gift for my pain.
From my dear friend who is gone.
I will be next, passed on.
I have to be next.
There is no other answer in this context.

Tick tock, no more sounds from the clock.
Take to the stairs, no more talk.
Go up one at a time.
No more fooling around, I must climb.
No more to say.
Where is my darn cane anyway? 
Do you see it now?
The hook at the end? 
I have to take it with me as it's my friend.
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