Clocks

My 2 A.M. thoughts about time.

I do not know what I've become,
Sitting here and counting stars,
Reflecting as the pendulum 
Upon this world of ours.

I carry worlds upon my back,
I carry years and decades hence,
I move as brittle Father Time:
With endless motion, ceaseless step.

Forward is all that I do;
I cannot see another way,
For much too much is mine to do,
And all of time is mine to sway.

Of all the things that I have seen, 
From gruesome death to cherished life,
They all mean but one thing to me:
The ceaseless motion of time.

And this, the work of the Father's hand,
Is why I carry all of time.
Is why the world is slave to me,
And yet I let it turn in kind.

Yet still I sit here counting stars,
Unsure of what I have become,
Reflecting as a ticking clock
With an endlessly moving pendulum.

Reviews

[Jessica Lynn Polley]

It is crazy for me to read this poem because I wrote a poem called time maker I have to put on this site. I will add it right away and I hope you will come read it because our thoughts are parallel. I love this poem and the concept and its just so crazy to me that this happened.

[MAD ENGLISHMAN]

Thank you for entering this competition.
I cannot comment now as this would be unfair to other entries.
Best regards.
Clive