A word from the wise may be too much

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I'm often in a quandary, My mind is like a sieve; I look to ''sayings,'' old or new, For tips on how to live. I'd like to be the early bird (A worm at easy rates), But then I read that everything Will come to him who waits. They say I'm stupid to complain, For who pays any heed? But then I hear that squeaky wheels Get all the grease they need. I ought to look before I leap Or pay a fearful cost; But why should I do that, when he Who hesitates is lost? So all these weary adages Just aggravate my doubt: The sayings of the wise, alas, Just seem to cancel out.

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