A twelve on my forehead
A six on my chin
I can’t rub them off
They’re stuck to my skin.
My nose grew two hands
And they tick different paces
I’m the ungrateful owner
Of two different faces.
One face is my own
It shows fear, pain or gladness
The other’s a clock
And it drives me to madness.
I look in the mirror; can’t help but tell time
When the hour strikes, I burp
And it sounds like a chime
People look at my clock face
And can’t help but laugh
There’s no pity at all
For a man-chronograph.
My life is entangled
With time’s ceaseless creep
Doesn’t fly when I’m happy
Doesn’t stop when I sleep
Doesn’t live on a band
I can take off my wrist
But insists, with each burp:
I am Time. I persist.
