The Life Of A Clock Poem by Sarah Lynn Jackson

With each passing hand reading off the time,
As the clock strikes 12 with its alarming chime,

Standing in the center for all getting old,
Collecting at its base was vivid mold,

Season after season forming rust,
*While still gaining people's trust,

Gear after gear,
For all near.

Footnotes *
The line "While still gaining people's trust" refers to when people always rely on the time without batting an eye or second guessing.