Sense Sonnet - Tickler

Time Flies

In heaven, each soul has a clock
That keeps a time track of each lie
Told by each of the human flock,
Right up until the day each die.
Each clock does tick for each lie told,
The hand moving a second's worth,
Adding up lies as each grows old,
Moving faster further from birth.
Very few eaches tell no lies,
But there's a bunch that tell the most.
It really comes as no surprise,
One bunch of lies is overdosed.

Each politician's clock is ran
Constantly as a ceiling fan.