I am smooth and curved. My digital appearance is easily read with its precise dark lines transforming to a new shape every minute.
I cannot freeze nor slow, and I am always right. I am admired by only one—
Only the eyes of the one who carries me.
Watch me and I will not go any faster;
Forget me and I will not go any slower. Often, I hug you when we travel,
Assisting you on your timeless journeys.

Now I am grand, reaching to the stars with long, cracked columns and rusty bars.
I cannot go with you on any journey but will always
Be here when you return. Every morning, my antique whiskers point in various directions,
point to tired Roman numerals, which straighten up so everyone can see them.
Age engulfs me like moss to a tree,
Although I feel much older than that.
Rhythmically, I sing to you, each hour, day, and year, just to let you know I am still here.