I can hear the bell tolling
Almost every minute
Of every day.
It all started years ago
When my dog died.
It was a simple murmur then.
After that I was told the truth about Santa Claus
And the Easter Bunny
Not to mention the Tooth Fairy.
At each of these shatterings of my innocence
The tolling grew louder.
As the realities of the world
Came crashing down upon my small churning brain
I heard the tolling grow louder
Till now I stand here an old man of thirty.
With graying hair
And deep hollows eyes
Sunken inside a cave of wrinkles once called a face.
I hear the bell tolling.
Causing my head to vibrate with each ring
Rattling my teeth right down to the roots.
There was something else that came along with the bell.
As all demons seem to travel in pairs
So to does the tolling.
I first spotted it far off
And it gradually grew closer
Till now it stands before me, and I stand up in my chair to embrace it.
I can take the tolling no more.
The hangman’s noose awaits me
With the hopeful promise of silence.