Why Do We Look At Clocks? Poem by scott first

Mirror, mirror
pandoras box
why is it that we look at clocks?
is it just that time of day?
without them would we still go?
would we stay
here i lay, staring at a broken clock, which has ticked its last tock.
as i stare and ponder at this broken clock a stroke of twilight enters my soul, as if to say stop! ! !
still i lay and ponder more, still searching for that hidden door.
here i lay motionless, uncontent.
i wonder where my time has went.
why do i feel as tho my soul is bent?
i think to myself (only here and now should matter) .
i let out a joy of laughter.
i rejoice at how wonderful life really is.
i close my eyes as darkness slowly fills my soul and begins to lull me to sleep.
here at the cusp of waking consciousness as darkness enshrouds and devours my soul.
i realize i have no control.
here i realize the one thing no clock can measure.
the one thing no man or clock can predict or escape.
as if i were sinking in the belly of the titanic, and the water was truth.
it surrounded me and i had no control.
alas, i realized in that split second, in the blink of an eye
but it was to late.
death had found me.
looses counscisness