Wordsmith

Hi folks,
I've had enough angst for this week. No insult intended so please don't be offended.
Let's have a bit if fun.I thought I might try to formulate a poem but first I want my say so let's get going. Words are no good if they lack emotion. You may as well go drop them in the ocean. Forced and hollow is how they appear It is an experiment, just to be clear. We all have those days when the words don't appear so here's a little ditty I would like you to hear.
Holiday
The words won't come to me today
My brain doesn't have much to say
It's hopped on a bus and gone out for the day
Sometimes I wish that's where it'd stay
Taylor Crowshaw

My husband said 'Is it'd even a word?' I said 'No dear it's an abbreviation haven't you heard?' For the purposes of these words today it'd is here to stay.
I once asked a guy to critique my work. He said he enjoyed it very much although he found it direct and to the point sometimes a bit of a hard read, I nodded to him as if I agreed. After much soul searching and looking around I finally found a word of which I liked the sound. 
I know exactly what he meant but instead of the words that he muttered I would simply say my work is ...UNCLUTTERED.. it makes me feel better anyway.
We seemed to have slightly moved off point so let's get back to the business of this poem. It is almost time I need to get going. If this poem does go wrong I could possibly turn it into a song.
It is forced so be aware I am ready for critique so put it out there. It is simply made with words straight from my head, not via the heart which is the path I usually tread.  Please tell me what you think should I leave the formula on the shelf, or will it add to my wealth?

Silence

The silence booms.
Inside my room.
Silence hangs as it looms.
In the stillness and the gloom.

It's comfort and rest from craziness.
Relaxing I feel I am blessed.
Until I feel refreshed again.
When the silence begins to irritate my brain.

Boom boom in my room.
Boom boom in my head.
That ticking clock beside my bed.

The silence deafens me.
The clock threatens me.

Time ticking by relentlessly by.
Why do I feel more alone?
When the clock begins to groan.

There is nothing worse in a room.
Than the tick tock of a clock.
Or the turning of a lock.
Sharpened senses alert and ready.
Silence reigns breathing steady.
I cannot bear the defeaning sound.
Those incessant clock hands ticking around.

Reminding me of days past.
Of the fact that nothing ever lasts.
Faces of the people I recall.
The vastness of life makes me feel small.

Take the clock from my room.
Open the curtains eliminate the gloom.
Fill the space with light and sound.
Stop those hands from ticking around.

OK let's begin...

First critique:

There are far too many booms in that room.
It lacks heart although I like the idea.
Does a clock groan?

Have fun. If your still with me.
Taylor