A Part

I once had a friend with a nephew,
Who decided to look at his clock.
"Uncle, come here!" the nephew cried,
As he loosened the clasp from the lock.

He wondered at the gearshafts,
And marvelled at the wheels;
That intricate mechanism
Seemed totally unreal.

But then he noticed something;
A spanner in the work;
A coiling strip of metal
That seemed to twist and jerk.

"It's a spring," my friend explained,
And before he could but speak;
"It looks totally useless!" was
The interrupted shriek.

"It doesn't whirr, it only spins;
It doesn't tock and it doesn't tick.
It just sits and whirls, twangs and twirls,
And makes that funny click."

"So why don't we just take it out?"
My friend, with great suspicion.
And slowly, steady, carefully,
They proceeded with their mission.

Seconds passed, nothing appeared,
Or stopped, or went kaboom;
But slowly, swiftly, silently,
The timepiece met its doom.

He tried to put the spring back in,
Explaining as he went,
That though something looked useless,
It wasn't, to any extent;

And that people, being people,
Are like raindrops in the mud:
A couple doesn't hurt you,
But more will cause a flood.

As as he taught his lessons,
The spring, out of its place,
Crumpled as he attempted
To close the lid on the case.

Not wanting to get a brand new clock,
(After all, he had this one for years)
He decided to just get a new spring,
And hang on to his sprockets and gears.

At the clockmaker's shop he inquired,
"Do you think I can sell you this spring?
It might be a little bit dented,
But I'm sure it's got use for something."

Without a glance at the metal,
The shopkeeper hurriedly said,
"That coil's worth not even a penny;
Would you like to buy something instead?"

This poem's ending is ironic,
But one of the truths of this earth:
Just because you are necessary
Doesn't mean that you have any worth.