The red circled thing
Owned the hands of time
It stopped and ogled at me
Our eyes met, and he snubbed.

He is vital to me
That I can’t live
Without even looking at him
The space he knows,
And I was left dumbfounded how he knows.

He owned the twelve sections
Clinched it with glass,
I thought he’s atypical
For his hands were not two but three
Now, I’m baffled of his identity.

He was quiet for days
But I needed him somehow
I wish to own him ceaselessly
But he’s running to fast.

Even if he’s staggered
He’s still making his shift
Working for others
Wouldn’t stop at any moment.

Farewell my friend,
I disgust it, gazing at you
My calendar was so rigid, so tight
Then you left me at night
Adieu, owner of time!

(2/21/14 @xirlleelang)