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Old father time What you in a hurry for What is all the rush for What is all the haste for Old mister time yo What is all the hurry for It's only a quarter past three Old father time What you all a hurry for What you all a rush for What's with all the haste for Old mister time yo What you all a hurry for It's only a quarter past three
That quarter past three bit got me right in the chest... suddenly the whole rush felt weirdly loud.
The poem feels like someone talking directly to time with a mix of humour, impatience, and quiet wonder, almost as if they’re trying to slow down a friend who never stops moving. The repeated questions asking why time is in such a rush sound like the kind of thing we say when life feels too fast and we just want a moment to breathe. There’s something warm and familiar in the way the speaker keeps insisting it’s “only a quarter past three,” as if reminding both time and themselves that there’s no need for all this haste. The simplicity of the language makes the feeling even more relatable, like a small protest whispered under your breath on a busy day. The poem captures that very human wish for the world to pause just long enough for us to catch up, to feel present, to not be pushed forward before we’re ready.