What´s the time

Have you the hour
Well I read it on screens
but each one is different
which makes me scream

It´s killing my genetic blue print
to a fervent feeling toward punctuality
So have you got the time
that unreal reality

I get out of bed
legs take me to breakfast
but eyes search for hands and numbers
that cold feeling taps me on the shoulder

Yes that ghoul is lateness
the one we invented to haunt time

not one of you have the right hour though
Not machine nor human knows
Not afternoon sun with late autumn Wind blow
Nor midday drizzle inviting

Greenwich meantime you are no good to me
For I want to live forever
And your reminders of mortality begrieve
We work like that machine cogsfull of clever