Nigh on a hundred years
I was the king of time,
With my intricate insides
and my clever design,
My precise inner workings
are a wonder to behold,
I will always be with you
until you are old.


Onto the scene
bursts an arrogant upstart,
With nary a spring
or an oiled machined part,
A soulless battery
to power him along,
As an object of beauty
he will never belong.


The beautiful Swiss piece
has not missed a beat,
While the new contender
has signaled defeat.
As time marches on
I remain at your side,
A reliable old friend
who ticks with pride.