Cog- My Clockwork heart
Words escape This mechanical man
Like the hands on a clock
or hourglass sand
I tick without fail
I move without waste
I live without life
and tick with such grace
Like a metronome
Obscenely precise
This man made device
It doesn't pulse or beat
It doesn't feel or weep
It ticks
just ticks
Never losing a stroke
never skipping a beat
Always on time
always in sync
Clockwork Adam
stuck in Eden
Without a Gear-laden Eve
It's no wonder
I wonder
If I could ever leave
or even Grieve the need
To be freed
of this bronze Prison
in my breast.
I do my best to lay these thoughts to rest
but it still ticks in my chest..
A clock work marvel yes,
but a man I am not
End.
Shadenhands' Corner [under construction 11/13/08]
Just an archive of poetry and other creative efforts of a less than usefull nature.