the sacrificial lamb

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he stands before the altar, 

a sacrificial lamb

lost for words he falters, 

as he shakes another hand

they’re giving him a watch today 

they say he’s a lucky man

able to retire with, 

his health and pension plan

a watch to show for thirty years

of dedicated service

the watch he needed years ago

when keeping time served purpose

do they think that he’ll find comfort now

in knowing the time of day?

while all his friends are working

and he slowly wastes away

i’ve always thought it cruel and cold

insulting and insincere

to give a man perpetual time 

when time is his biggest fear

second by second, minute by minute

the hours the days and the weeks

watching the months and the years as they pass

growing older, more feeble, and weak

and when near to death, on his bed he lies

he’ll find comfort in knowing the time

he can look at the hands with a watchful eye

and see the second he dies

that last second must be such a long, long time

infinity unto itself

and I wonder whether I’ll spend it

safe in heaven or burning in hell

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