Woody sits in a dark corner
With smile on his face
and a cowboy hat on his head
Looking at a cuckoo clock
Which shows it’s ten to four
Four o’clock is woody’s teatime
Lots of friends and fancy cake
Although time’s running fast
But how long these ten minutes take?
Shadows grow on distant hills
Tangerine sun on glassy sea
All his ember eyes reflected
And still ten minutes left ’til tea
The house, withered, is old and broken
Rusty springs through mattresses show
The cuckoo clock is also broken But how’s Woody supposed to know?
Unaware he’s been discarded
That no friend will come through
The hills and sea just glass, old papers
A telephone that no one will answer
Empty cups that once held tea
Now they hold everything but glee
The clock that still says nearly teatime
Where can all his friends be?
For ages now he’s lain unwanted
Smiling in his cowboy hat
He’ll never know he’s been abandoned
‘Til the clock reads after four
Don’t tell him that the clock is broken
For as long as woody doesn’t know
It’ll always soon be teatime
As it was, so long, long ago.
Aphorism with Abhishek 