Your watch ticking,
Like a world passing by.
Seeing time through your eyes,
Watching the hands move with a small tick,
Around the circumference of your thick, gold watch.
Spinning so slowly, so silently.

At four years old it seemed like magic,
The way you turned a notch,
And the hands started to spin round and round,
Spinning so slowly, so silently.

At eight years old it started to make sense,
I started to see how time worked,
Because you taught me.
I turned the notch,
And the hands started to spin round and round,
Spinning so slowly, so silently.

At twelve years old telling time was second nature.
I saw how as the hands on your watch spun and time passed by,
You got older and you changed.
Time passed by and it was plain to see,
You grew old, but the hands on your watch still spun round and round,
Spinning so slowly, so silently.

At fifteen now, time is no problem.
Time doesn’t even seem to matter anymore.
I don’t want to tell time, and I cannot.
Your watch breaks, just like your bones.
Your watch gets fixed and so do you.
You are not getting better, only getting worse,
But the hands on your watch,
Still spin round and round,
So slowly, so silently, and so sweetly.