Life's rounded clock face
Get washed by running arms .
What kind of stupid race?
But sounds like a chimes.
There's always certain charm,
And we get hypnotized.
Till sound of alarm
Wakes up and make us rise.
Clock arms are strong enough.
They're wrestling - we defeat.
No mater, how we're tough,
No mater how we're neat.
Clocks round faces defer,
But all have equal speed.
Our time will come, don't stare.
I don't. It's like a weed.
The more of it you kill
On good and fruitful soil,
The larger it stay still,
The most you can to spoil.