Russian Roulette. (a little rough, its a metaphor for my current situation.)

The gun is being passed around the table.
Next person's turn.
Mine is coming up, but will I be able?
The wait is killing me.
My stomach begins to churn.
I want to take the gun to my head now.
But that is not allowed.
The next was a bullet, and it was loud.
One is dripping dead on the floor.
And they will play no more.
So why should I play?
Because I love you.