Many a rhyme has been wrote
For desire, our souls, and new hope.

Many a song has been sung
To new babes, a fiery kiss, or the sun.

But what of this little thing,
a tiny little detail
that stops the harsh ring
of a fist turning your face retail.

To tolerance
the act of holding back
without which I would be
flat on my back.

To hearing crying children
in the middle of a theater
and resisting sudden urges
to climb up there and beat her.

To waiting in long lines
at an amusement park of choice
feeling tired and angry
but trying to keep your poise.

To the despicable human being
who interrupts your train of thought
who laughs about the fart joke
they were recently just taught.

To cats on the black futon
purring up a storm
when suddenly they snap
and no longer keep you warm.

To willpower and perseverance
in the face of great despair
the absence of which
would simply be a lot to bear.

So, an ode to this concept
in which no one should be inept.

Then all the world would be chaos
With no tolerance: a mess.