The Irrelavant Man

The gears turn in unison,
the cogs move the wheel.
The hours pass by and the days go on,
said the Clockmaker.
The hands of this clock will sway;
but mine, they can't ,
these fractures in time are for me to heal.

The strings resonated,
the melodies became ripe;
The fruits of the lovely song,
were as sweet as honey.
Shouted the Musician;
Can your bits of steel and cogs and wheels,
bring these rhythms to life?

The Baker down the street, thought to himself;
The oven glows and the bread turns to gold,
these dreams they cook, the tales they stew;
Let's serve this art cold,
and ask the men to chew.

The unassuming man,
searching for benevolence, passed by the road;
But Alas! was not seen nor heard,
in these tall claims of relevance.