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Tick Tock
Your hands pass slowly round,
The circumference of your face,
Numbers are the accompaniment,
An ally in boundless space.
Inventions are often frowned upon,
In this expanding world of ours,
But your form is somewhat different,
In that it adds to our power.
Or at least creating this illusion,
As we wait to finish work,
For as your hand strikes 5 o clock,
We appreciate your worth.
