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Digital Clock
Your eyes were two cross sections of a clock
 And in them I saw gears whirring like tiny game show wheels
 Your mind was as whimsical as the white rabbits watch
 Ticking along prettily like a one-toned music box
 
  Then one day you went digital
 Plugged in and ditched mechanical
 Your world filled with segmented numbers 
 Finger bones disconnected at the knuckles
 And reassembled into broken neon lines
 Accurate to the second, a sure sign of the times
 Molded your shape from round to rectangular
 Clear as a bell, brilliant and angular

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