This pocket watch, it ticked past every one of my mistakes.
What happened? Did it age, rust, or finally give out and break?
Any old broken pocket watch would drag me to the ground
In return for all the times that it’s been dropped and tossed around.
But I carry this old pocket watch, not caring that it’s dead.
It leased my mind to scrolling numbers, and acted as a friend.
It’s plausible, if time were false, that I’d be rent asunder
Like a feeling of too close lightning with a distanced wispy thunder.
But a trust instilled by this coin’s lost pulse is a perfect fit for me.
It’s golden chain, in ironic fashion, has finally set me free.

I’ll set you down in an honorable place.
Days are fleeting, I must make haste.
An uphill battle, no time for face.
Forget the Watch, no time to waste.