The Clock

The clock, the clock seems to offer hope,
Never-ending seconds, minutes, hours,
Time to do all you will do,
Even stop and smell the flowers.

The clock, the clock tells others’ time 
If you’re early, If you’re late;
But no reminders of your own end,
No insight to your fate.

The clock, the clock slowly spins
Your seconds, minutes, hours away.
As you watch, you’re losing Life.
Carpe Diem.  Seize the day.

The clock, the clock gives not a damn
For the time you hold so dear;
And, after all, ‘tis its stopping
That, above all else, you fear.

The clock, the clock measures all eternity.
There was beginning, but there is no end.
Each birth is a death’s beginning.
The clock, the clock is no man’s friend.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

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Gauthier Avatar
February 23, 2020 at 2:48 AM
Wonderful poem. Time is my obsession.
Mcconnell Avatar
September 10, 2014 at 12:54 PM
superb piece Robert, really makes one ponder on the clock,love your line 'Each birth is a death’s beginning. so well penned , God bless, Gordon
Austin Avatar
September 8, 2014 at 2:43 PM
I like the repetition. It gives rhythm to the piece, much as a clock would do. Congrats on the selection. daver
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