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Stag at Sharkeys, by George Bellows
Robert L. Martin

Fighting Father Time

Father Time, that stone hearted beast,
That scoundrel Prince of Darkness Priest,
Who steals our youth and chooses our fate
As our days zoom by our destiny we await,
That thief who steals our dermal moisture
In gratitude for our unwilling forfeiture,
That beast who laughs at the way we move,
The way we slow down and disapprove.
He rides on our backs and weakens our knees.
He increases our suffering that he oversees.
He steals our memory and laughs at our loss,
Until we give in and select him, our boss.
But there is a remedy to chase him away.
Get up and fight, much to his dismay.
 
Knowledge, our faithful ally,
Is always there to help us fight.
Her kind and sympathetic eyes
Oversee our futility as she
Replenishes our arsenals,
Those weapons of the past.
 
We can’t defeat Father Time,
But we can prolong his effect on us.

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