The Enemy Poem by Jose Orozco

As I sit, my mind may wonder.
To yet a land, where I can ponder.
I fear to hate, for which it brings.
A lasting taste, out it sings.

But yet I lay, and still he goes.
As for now, he slowly flows.
Fury comes from deep inside.
Be my friend, you merciless ride!

I want, I wish, for him to run.
For speed, right now, would be fun.
Do I ask for too much?
Or is he evil, greed aflush?

Either or, he does beguile.
We cannot tame, his sinister smile.
He is not only mine.
We all call him Father Time.