The Waiting Game
THE WAITING GAME
I'm playing the waiting game,
not futilely nor waiting in vain.
My delivery, my parcel my expectation;
forces me to ambulation.
I want it now,
my elixir my kisser;
sit and lull for the lister;
who swore to me a delivery vow.
For what do I wait,
as the hours grow late?
And why won't it come now!
Anticipation sloths, it insists I allow,
as time cannot expedite it's rate,
Heavens! give it to me now!
When the bloody hell will it be,
is some great force slowing delivery?
I must have it.
I cannot wait one bit.
Wait! I make no demand; we did agree.
My tactic is only made idly,
and can wait out eternity.
Ooohhhhh when I have it in hand!
Patience called into my spirit land.
I am closer, I count clock's tick's;
Calm. Tools down.
For it will come around,
as it was assured by honor bound.
Can you relate to this, my expound?
Then I can be more comfortably sound.
The duration of stagnation calls for liberation
with such I am spared ruination
I've gone through elation and vexation and frustration,
Yet yes, I will have my placation.
This trial and tribulation is vocation of sedation and stagnation.
An empty marathon that knows not capitulation.
I will have my unification.
My determination matches my frustration across the duration.
In the end I sidestep ruination and have my elation.
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