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Father, I cannot click the watch
Dearest birthing parent of mine, this timepiece responds not to my attempts at manipulation
To whom it may concern (the progenitor of my very existence):
The clockwork temporal measurement device strapped 'pon the writhing fleshy tentacle protruding from mine own thorax remains sullen and unchanging despite my best efforts at provocation.
Please advise.
O dear original source of half of my genetic material, including the differentiating heterotypical chromosome!
Despite my many attempts at interacting through my somatosensory system with what looked like a haptic receptor of a timekeeping mechanism attached to my sinestro-anterior limb, the visual indicator of the aforementioned radiocarpal joint-mounted machine keeping track of the flow of hours, minutes and seconds (important: please note only the latter is a SI unit) remains devoid of any hint of a reactive process consequential to my stimulus.
What the fuck.
Brought forth, my mind, my spirit, conscience and flesh and all Into this universe, by merit of affections made by thee As forebearer, Zeus as to Hephaestus, as you to me Echoing ancestral age's call From infant times, whenst could I not procure my own Through learning and advancing in my worth You held me high, and pushed me forth By song affirmative in words and tone This trust of merits, my esteem, oft besong by you Make these words, this moment, this request Become the heaviest of my behest Albeit an inquire I can not undo Upon my arm, as equator round our very earth Is bound with leather strap, and nimble lock A dream of time, of days, of tick and tock Of life, it's passage, to the grave from birth A timepiece, chroniker, a metronome, a watch In and of itself a wondrous thing And as I watch it circumnavigate it's ring I have but a single question, single catch When on it's surface, with extended digits laid With tap, with stroke, with haste, with patience and between Expected outcome of my action, none are seen And of my merits, now am I afraid I humbly ask of you, my genesis, my kin Am I the one who know not how to utilize This measurer of time, this timeless prize Am I unknown to functions laid within No prodding, poking, touch or stroke Have rendered changes visually And therefore I conclude I now can see The functions I can not provoke I utter loudly "what the fuck" Have you equipped it with parental lock?