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: