The Clock That Forgot to Tick

The clock above the doorway stands,
Its hands still locked, like folded hands.
No ticking sound, no steady beat,
Just silent hours in soft defeat.

It stopped the day you walked away,
And froze the world in shades of gray.
No morning came, no evening passed,
Just moments trapped, forever fast.

I dust it off but let it sleep,
A quiet secret that I keep.
Its face reflects my silent ache,
A wound of time that will not break.

I count the days without a chime,
Each second lost, a stitched-up rhyme.
You took the time we used to share,
Left hollow space and still air.

Yet part of me still hopes one day,
You’ll turn the key and look my way.
And maybe then, the clock will click—
A heart reborn, a brand-new tick.