or sign in with e-mail
by Scott Cole Apr 30, 2015 category : Life, society / about society
Oh Father Time Please slow your feet, Pull up a chair And have a seat. Don't let your fame Burn yourself out, For all over the World You're still talked about. With each passing second Your new age is read, Though you're getting older At least your not dead. Oh Father Time Just how does it feel, To always keep moving And never sit still. With no place to go Nor rush to get there, I have not a clue Why we even do care. With so little of you But so much to do, I guess that's the reason We're worried about you.