Clock

Clock
By Zyphlen, Zack, Billy, and Mason

This is the beginning of a poem that rhymes,
With my hands around I climb,
I can be round, I can be square,
Any shape, it's all fair.
I stay up all night,
I'm always right,
I'm in most homes,
Sounding like a metronome.
I wake you in the morning,
With a loud warning,
I'm able to drive you crazy,
If you happen to be lazy.
I'm hanging up on your wall,
And on a tower standing tall.