Like a cog in the workings of a clock,
I am pushed around
By the other cogs.
Alone I feel the gears
Grinding against me.
They do not know how I feel,
While I cannot understand their inner thoughts.
We must assume each other to be fine;
Everything is alright,
So long as we keep working,
The clock must keep ticking.
With digital clocks we are less useful.
Trying to prove our usefulness
As we are told that we are replaceable;
Younger cogs are brighter,
If we try to stop or slow down
We become warped
And we will not be the same again.