An Old Clock Tower beside a park

I am stagnant here and you don't believe,
My feeble hands won't move anymore
As the machine has stolen, sorry
I cannot give you the right time.
Alas! You choose the digital watches.
Nobody wants to paint and repair me
And I remember the colonial days here
Lovers meet & depart with thousands of promises!
But none comes nowadays except a friendly beggar
Who counts his till, a nightcap with a scanty meal
And I hear he groans like a bull!

* Heaven lies about us in our infancy.
-Alphonse M.L.Lamartine

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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