Iron Irony

The clock is a heavy iron
ticking ever so loud.
Sometimes I have to wonder
dreaming above the clouds.
The rope for me to climb up there
is right in front of my face.
O why do I even care
I'm in a way better place.
The rain drops harder every day
I can never go out to play.
Although the Sun shines brightly then
well nobody could see the pain.
I'm standing here stationary
With my defected vocabulary.
Where do I go next?
If I refuse to climb up the clouds
And I would rather not turn left or right
Rooted like a tree with many pouts...
What should I do next?
.............
damn it. it's hard to be an adult having to make decisions like one! YECH!