Patience is a virtue,
Is what I have been told.
I can appreciate tomorrow,
At my age plus one day old.
To understand the present,
I must wait ’til its the past.
Until then I should focus
On the present feelings cast.
And as I sit here, idle,
Waiting for tomorrow’s gold,
They say I’ll spend it wisely,
At my age plus one day old.
The value of the present,
Certain once it is the past,
Cannot be spent on frivolities,
Should not be spent too fast.
Thus I sit and shiver,
Curious if I should fold;
I will know just what to do
At my age plus one day old.
But if I do not change my present,
It forever is my past
And any given moment
May well just be my last.
