the waiting place

Do you dare stay out?
Do you dare go in?
How much can you lose?
How much can you win?
And if you go in, should you turn left or right?
Or right and three quaters?
Or maybe not quite.
You can get so confused, that you’ll start into race,
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace,
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed I fear towards a most useless place,
the waiting place.
For people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go or for a bus to come,
or for a plane to go or mail to come,
or the rain to go or the phone to ring,
or the snow to snow,
or waiting for a yes or a no,
waiting for a string of pearls or a pair of pants,
or a wig with curls,
or another chance...

~ Dr Seuss