Facing Routine

Oh look at that clocktower
Ticking, ticking
With a nonchalant face
Like it has nothing else to do

What a pleasant life
A clock must lead
Never late, always
On time
Tick, tock, tick, tock

The north star leads to a path
Where time is frozen
Storms are seized
And clouds break open
To bathe the world in sunlight

What a horrid life
A clock must lead
Frozen in
Reality
Tick, tock, tick, tock

Calm on the outside
Gears grinding on the inside
Maybe clocks
Are a bit like us?

Oh how I am glad
I am not a clock
Why do we keep track
of time so much?