I went to get my clock refilled
With time they pumped it up
But I dropped it on the way back home
And smashed it like a cup

Time it leaked out everywhere
It made a pool upon the street
I tried to clean the mess up
Before I got it on my feet

Because time stains like beetroot juice
And is more permanent than permanent ink
It will slow you down so much that
You could sleep inside a blink

But I was too late, or should that be too early
Now no one understands
Why I always can spare them time
I have a lot of it on my hands.

Time on My Hands - A short funny poem about why you should be careful with clocks.