If patience is a virtue, I'm corrupt.
My tolerance runs low at best, it seems.
This mounting tension threatens to erupt;
I wish that I could shake you from my dreams.

Absurd delusions mingle with the rain,
and through the misty haze I cannot see.
They say I have 'no reason to complain,'
when cursing and conversing secretly.

Behind your eyes there rests a hidden smile,
and though you have come dangerously close,
apparently it isn't so worthwhile
to speak the simple words I crave the most.

Although your heart is blind, I beg you, please:
forget your pride and put my mind at ease.