Waiting sucks, I think you know
Especially when everything
Conspires as conjoined to bring
Your patience to a newfound low.
Time is the tool that made me so,
Tired and ready to unsling
My burdens from my back, and fling
Myself into the future. No,
I cannot do that, though I might
Desire to be passed on through;
Time sticks to me instead like glue
And what I wait for's out of sight.
Indeed, I almost think it spite
To have to wait for this and you.
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