The Nek

You look down at your wrist,
A small, silver contraption is mirrored in your glassy eyes,
Strapped in place, small hands scream demands of action,
You believe you are the master of your own destiny,
Yet you are commanded completely by this little contraption.
You cannot rid yourself of this thief,
The puppeteer of life and destruction,
Working side by side with Death and God,
An eternity of giving and taking,
A vicious cycle that causes grief and joy,
A lifetime controlled by cogs and steel,
Tick, tick, tick, tick,
You are once again reminded of your incapability to make decisions for yourself,
Tick, tick, tick, tick,
For you are not the master of your own destiny.