Listen to the clock upon the wall,
Tic, toc, tic, toc, softly the sound.
Marking the minutes one and all,
Three moving hands in a face so round.
Counting the seconds, minutes, and hours,
A monotonous task it does so well.
How must it feel to wield such power,
Only the time keeper can really tell.
Perpetually working for no reward,
Endlessly moving forward in time.
Many are in servitude to this lord,
Waiting for his tell tale chime.
Always moving forward, he never looks back,
Where he has been no longer exists.
Sticking always firmly to the same track.
Plowing ahead through the timeless mist.
The time keeper marks the lives of men,
For good or bad no one can devine.
Intangible his product cannot be seen,
Always moving forward, always on time.
7/31/10 Alton Texas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem