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

Every day

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.