Clocks For Eyes

I got the idea of a creature with clocks where it eyes should be a long time ago and decided to turn it into a poem.
I see this creature as a reflection of time and death, or rather, what it means to us, our fear and fascination.

The creature with clocks for eyes
Swallows the years as it prowls our garden
Thin and gangly but with dignified grace
It sees the time on everyone's face

One clock is the present
And one clock is the future
There is no past and
You can never go back

The creature with clocks for eyes
Doesn't tell you when its hungry
It never goes without
Because all it could ever need
Is given without question

It has two faces, four hands
An eternity of deadly conscience
Nothing to reconcile with
Nothing to apologize to
It doesn't hear you
When the jaws snap shut for the final time
You'll know the gateway to the past is closed
There is no third clock

Avert your eyes from those hateful numerals
If you can
And don't pretend you owe nothing
To your fellow man

'Cause the creature with clocks for eyes is ambling
Nearer and nearer
Paws scratching, tick-tick-ticking
Begging to be let in

Glimpsing nothing but the end
Hearing nothing but those pleading words
More time, just a little more time
To make things right
Just a few more days
To say what needed to be said

Just another day in the sunlight
Before I fall through the floor
And impale myself on the upturned hands
Of abandoned bodies and souls

The End

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