patience

the virtue i never seem to master

taunts me

the waiting

the wishing

the hoping

so excruciatingly long

hangs its unpredictable future

above my head

in an instant

i am nowhere near

the beginning

yet father from the end

and in the same place

as the present unfolds

the future evolves

and my past becomes

more interconnected

than before

i would’ve failed

the “marshmellow test”

knowing i cant’t seem to

wait

for better things

i would’ve learned

the dissapointing punch of

instant gratification

once i was no longer

gratified

while i sit and wait

nothing passes me by

except the moments that

i could’ve recognized

as they happened

the here and now

that tricky little thing

that slips by just as fast

as it arrives

why must patience

be a feat

when all i must do

is to

trust the process of time