The Grandfather Clock - writers comp

What is that tucked inside the Grandfather clock?
That for many years hasn’t said tick or even tock.
Has a mouse hidden itself away?
Waiting for me to go to bed, then comes out to play?
Has a spider set up home in the dust and grime?
Or is it just an old clock that no longer tells the time?

What is that tucked inside the Grandfather clock?
In the still of the night, I hear and rap or a knock.
Is it the ghost of owners past?
Or is it just my heart, beating too fast?
What secrets does it hold? What would it say?
If the clock could talk, would it give them away?

What is that tucked inside the Grandfather clock?
I creep downstairs, holding the key to the lock,
Should I take a risk, open it up to see?
What would the old clock reveal to me?
I take a deep breath; wipe the sweat from my brow,
Put the key in the lock, no turning back now.

What is that tucked inside the Grandfather clock?
I finally found out, just a smelly old sock.
No secrets or treasure, no great big surprise,
Just someone’s forgotten laundry and a few dead flies.
I will lock the door, and never mention this night,
The children can still wonder if the stories were right.
Let them dream of the Grandfather clock,
That no longer ticks, and most certainly can't tock.

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