Tan Pratonix - The Clock on the Wall

I look at the face
Of the clock on the wall,
Silently creeping
A white minute-hand
Over its gleaming black
Circular face.
The regular ticking
Sounds loud in the stillness,
Till one revolution
Completes the hour...
The pendulum strikes
The end of the race.

It begins again
Through days and through weeks,
Crawling and creeping
To complete the year,
The end of a stage.
Its continual plodding
Resembles the life
Of the man in the street
On his tedious way...
Unthinking,
Uncaring...
A meaningless age.

Tan Pratonix

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-clock-on-the-wall/