The echoing clock has a pillaging brain,
Any efforts to befriend it are not germane,
And end up in rejection, depicting all in vain,
In fact, the clock regards such acts as profane,
As it has many unalterable rules to maintain,
That are all designed to keep us in pain.
Why does it really hold us all in such disdain?
Its tick tock depicts its disapproval for human emotions
It is quite austere in its continuity and notions
It never stops to share and listen to our devotions
We have to tolerate this ruthless tick tock with our heart’s commotions
It watches us dying every minute, every second in portions
It usurps all of our cheerfulness throwing us in oceans
Of despair, distrust, melancholy and demotions.
I have attempted to waste it trying to challenge its command
But all my struggles ended up in my own wastage that was planned
My collapse brought a smile on the clock’s face that was so grand
It validated that I couldn’t stand as a challenger being from the sand
It robbed all splendors, all pleasantness, everything from my hand
It is always there to steal from us and we quite misunderstand
Its unfriendliness, its plundering, its haunting tick tock and its command.