This incessant waiting clearly is the pits.
Frankly, I am tempted to say I call it quits.
I’ve been standing here for minutes when I’d much rather be seated,
and in spite of the tree’s canopy, I’m feeling rather heated.
The onus is on you, my friend, to tell me why we’re meeting.
You’ve used up your excuses and used up your entreating.
Friends do not do the things you do. They keep your confidences.
They do not carry tales. They come to their friends’ defenses.
You beg to meet just once again and then you show up late?
I rue the day I bonded with such a reprobate.
You have not won me over, in fact, without a doubt,
I fear our friendship’s over. Your test period’s run out!