Digital Clock

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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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