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Rated: E · Poetry · History · #2113023
A poem about time.
I’ve never owned a ticking wristwatch,
Or an obnoxious clock that tocks,

I found the tick-tock noise to bounce around my brain,
To invade my peace make my sleep impossible to obtain,

I’ve never asked a Watch-Maker why they felt to need,
The need to embed a noise,
In a creation of such delicate poise,

I imagine what they’d say when I show them my digital display,
And brag about how it also measures my heart rate,

They’d scoff and laugh as they place their gears, attuned their ears, and smile,
They’d say digital is dead and has no life,

“The tick-tock of my clocks is the language of Time, the hands? They wave goodbye,
While you’re at peace, time never rests and never dies.”

“A clock that ticks and tocks serve as a reminder to us all that no matter how we go,
Fast or slow, slow or fast,
Time is regardless and will continue to pass.”

“It's good to wear an old wrist watch and motivate yourself by the ticks and tocks;
The hands don’t wave goodbye due to seconds passing,
They wave goodbye to us, and the spell we waste and bask in,
Humanity is the briefest of moments, in the life of Time.”
© Copyright 2017 Percy Peters (percypeters at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2113023