Time still ran out.

In my childish curiosity,
thinking I was at
Wonder-work, lockedup
my watch, a precious gift,
double covered in gabardine
in a beautifully painted,
floral decorated box of iron.

Times ran out, I grew up with
the maturing times,
the rusty box started peeling out,
the incarcerated clock
stopped, no tick tock,
but time runs on, on,
my wall clock caringly,

destroys the eerie silence
of the house,
Time runs on,on.