I am padlocked, grounded to a lock, locked to a time bomb that's tick-clicking and tocking like a clock- A clock that talks. It never stops. It mocks the rocks outside of the conformist's box. But now I am a rock. I shook up the box. So, the clock that talks continually mocks me, And the clicks that tick move to quickly fix me- To tick and tock me into the shape of a sock, A sock that fits perfectly into the box of the ticking tocking clock. But I outfox the time bomb and all its clicks and snicks,  Its tocks and ticks,  Its clips and clops. I will not be forced to take the shape of a sock! The clock has ticked its last tock and clicked its last tick. I am unlocked from the lock locked to the padlock locked to the clock that used to tick and tock. I am lifted above the clicking and ticking of the time bomb. No ticking or tocking or clipping or clopping of any clock clicking contraptions bother me. For I now am free.