Broken Watch

My watch, it lies broken.

Time-scratched dial -
Gap-toothed grin
Frozen on friendly, golden face;
Limp hands -
A collective imagination
Which doesn’t tick anymore;
Numbers mutedly stare -
Hourly vanity dented,
They vainly wait, for validation,
For regulation and routine to resume;
Beautiful brown leather strap -
Stained with sweat, salt and defeat,
Hoping for familiar time
To make my wrist heavy again.

My watch, it lies broken.

My seconds, like over-eager raindrops,
Fall uncounted,
Their ambition misplaced.
My minutes, like unmapped miles,
Go missing in time’s wasted ocean.
My hours, at the mercy of the sun,
Make me night-blind.

Like a planet displaced
From disciplined orbit,
I spin aimlessly in space,
Unmoored into an emptiness where
Asynchronous dreams and
The unfulfilled schedule of my life
Remain suspended, listening
For the sounds of time,
Because my watch, it lies broken.