Orpheus was wrong when he turned to look.
His love, the underworld, inevitably took.
The turtle had it when he ran the race.
The rabbit was fast, but he lost his pace.
Stressed as you fidget and wile away the time ~
Hoping and thinking that your bell will soon chime ~
If only you possessed the power I bestow.
The wait would wait, and the present would grow.
A virtue I am, if let in.
For, to live in each moment is how you win.
What am I?
Answer: Patience
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