Tock

This poem is about the perception of time.

Do clocks tell the time,

Or does time tell the clocks?

Are clocks really real,

Is time a paradox?

When you go to sleep does time go fast, does it go slow?

And if you think clocks are real how do you really know?

Philosophically speaking we might be letter rho,

Painted on the side of a magic flying turbot.

My fellow reader, time has not a meter or a pace,

It’s all just an illusion crafted by the human race.

The flow of time is nothing but the Phi phenomenon,

That rolls the reel of space while you struggle to cotton on.