A watch

It's five minutes fast
but it was built to last
longer than ten years.
It has seen tears
and had its fair share of beers
spilled over it
and the gin and tonic
that I drank at a wedding
and saw me bedding
the bridesmaid of my dreams
or was it in them?
I don't remember.
Then in December
and October
turning the dates over
or forgetting
and rather than being ahead
I find I'm behind
but it's all relative
a yardstick by which I live
hurrying from where I was
to where I am going to be
and the waste of time in between.
I could do something useful,
sharpen a pencil
or wipe your nose
or clean the fluff from between your toes.
But not in the train,
nor in the park;
it's not allowed 'til it's dark.