A Clockwork God

As days turned to years

And faces grew lined 

Time grew scarce

And harder to find

And somewhere between the tick

And the tock

The face of our God became

The face of our clock

We look into Him

And pray for His hands

To grant us each day

Our few grains of sand

So like zealots

Fanatics

We worship our idol

A clockwork cult

With a calendar Bible

Frivolously spending

Never saving a dime

Then cursing our God

When we run out of time

But He just laughed

And picked up his pace

And we fell far behind 

In our long human race

 

 

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741