Once upon a time machine

He fashioned from a box

With nothing more than crayons

And a cache of broken clocks

The little boy went scooting

Down the corridors of time

And it was all so easy

For a young and open mind

But now the boy’s a physicist

And studies all his days

To learn to build a time machine

In complicated ways

And every day it’s clearer

What his facts and figures mean:

That only little boys can build

A real time machine