Life is like a clock

The hours change

The time fades

The colors are black and white

Every so often, something is bright

Sometimes it is broken,

And must be made new

Occasionally it stops at only one or two

Some lives are easy to read

Others, not as much

With one hand as the follower,

The other in the lead

Sometimes the numbers refuse to change

And always end up sticking

Someday, every clock will stop and finish ticking