Tick-tock, tick-tock,

Time marches on says the clock!

Onwards, forwards, into our future,

Content in knowing progress is our suitor.

But when looking back at our forefathers’ stance,

Have we, in fact, made any advance?

Healthier, richer, with all the mod cons;

No wonder we think we’re the chosen ones.

Though when peering at their ancient game,

Didn’t they think exactly the same?

We shout insane; they argued, they fought;

As if our lives aren’t equally fraught!

We fight, we argue, agree about little,

Could it just be our world is as brittle?

Tick-tock, tick-tock,

Simply marking time says the clock?

© John Sales 2001.