Of Mother Earth I do request,
A simple gift, but nothing less,
To scold thy husband Father Time
For spinning Earth without thoughtful mind.
Life’s moving picture that refuses rest
Remains deaf to memory’s protest,
And the gleaming years meant to last
Are cast behind my scattered past.
And you, O ruthless Father Time
Drives on without a course in mind
The wand that runs my unruly fate
Wields in your hand, I cannot break.
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