My Watch

The silver shining arms of the watch tick away,
Counting down the black hash mark seconds
To the peck of time slipping,
Soothing away all worry of time
And focusing on the constant pecking of the arms,
The still then still then still that beats forward with precision,
Even if set minutes ahead on purpose;
Always on time because it creates it.

It holds and captures, not the time ticking,
But the watch pecking.
It enslaves and conquers all who must take note,
Which is all, because time is universally measured.
The watch is a symbol for my chains
And all I may do is hold it to my ear and listen;
Wondering how it all works.

Pecking away,

Slipping away,

Right in front of me