Patience

I’ve waited for things all my life
and many a thing that were never true.
I’d lie alone in bed at night
while mother repeated “Patience is a virtue.”

With covers pulled up and bruised brow swollen,
I prayed and cried for Santa, Saint Nick.
Lord Almighty, Lord Almighty,
I saw dad in a red-suit running out real quick.

Teendom dawned as a period of night eclipsed by fireworks and Emma Watson,
she could make me sweat by looking.
I waited and waited and waited for my dance,
and still waited for a spot in her booking.

Torment! Torment! dreams turned to nightmares.
Shelling the hole I hid in, the nasty buggers laughed at me.
I waited waited waited for one to hit, to be found, to die
and wake up soaked in Grace’s ocean sea?

I still wait, and think back on virtues;
all the games won, monsters fought.
I always think, my first memory too,
and I wait for an original thought.

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