I am trying to turn the page,
Instead I tore it in rage.
Yet it didn't turn,
The patience inside me now burns.
Time is not ready to change,
The chances are now slipping out of my range.
I can't hold on anymore, have had enough.
It's making itself for me so tough.
The moment I think the coin might flip,
My left eye just begins to twitch.
It laughs at me and teases me,
Mimes my poor condition so easily.
I am craving to move on,
But it has just stopped with terror along.
My condition is as cold as ice,
I'm just waiting for six to appear on the dice.
I look at the still water which since a long time has not flowed,
Waiting for a boat in it to be rowed.
Time is just so still and quiet,
And I'm still waiting but am tired.
