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.