before us floats an image

all chances come and go and this one's ours
but every turn brings on a new mistake
all over we see shrubs and trees and flowers
but down below there is a stagnant lake

we're told one tale and then told another
the stories cluster round us thick as flies
we wonder why they even think to bother
to come up with more tales and with more lies

but patience we have in quantity galore
enough to fill a sea perhaps or flood
the world until there is no other shore
since every chance turns sadly to a dud

at times we wonder that we bear the strain
or that we smile and laugh and scorn the pain