a soft, powdery blue sphere.
On its best day, Patience sits neat and tidy in the center of the brain,
If it's tried some more... by, say, a vicious case of smallpox,
A muddy, mottled mess.
Insanely misshapen and horribly out of sorts.
So frayed and strayed from its cozy cranial nest that one end is actually trailing out of your nostril by the end of the day.
I know it's supposed to be the Most Wonderful Time of the Year, with those holiday greetings and gay-happy meetings. But if I'm being honest (which is a prerequisite to avoiding the Naughty List)...
I am too threadbare to care.