it wasn't the fickle
and it might have been
the laughable
but much too cold
unfeeling by any
worthy of notice
Or warming
the lemon yellow Sun
Blocked out feeling
and pale of ignorance
I found a broken clock
Its face twice right
Always the same
the gear workings mixed up
corroded and unwound
springs loose and crazy
like my thoughts,
the aged wood scratched, dented
Not much to look at
and I thought to use it,
at least for a while,