The China Clock
Time is precious
And a no friend of man.
From the rising sun of the dawn ,
To the creeping clouds of the dusk,
The slim fingers of the clock tick.
From the ancient China's candle clock,
To the recent weighs of wrist jewelry,
Time hasn't been a friend.
You beckon on it to wait a while,
With a secret thought of procrastination;
"I'll do it tomorrow".
It has no eyes to see your slothful face,
Neither does it have ears to hear your later hunger cry.
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