Patience

My patience is not quite as thick as before,
In fact it is wearing quite thin.
My tolerance snaps, whereas in days of yore,
I’d suffer it all with a grin.

A baby that cries in the frozen food lane,
I’ll bear it, but just for a while,
For if it persists, it will gnaw at my brain,
And I’ll disappear down the next aisle.

If I wake in the morning to RTE One,
With the uilleann pipes stridently calling,
I’ll wait for a minute and hope they’re soon gone,
Or else I’ll start cursing and bawling.