greece/if 'slow and steady' wins the race then what, exactly, loses it?

Feeling like Greece,

Wishing we were some Asian country
on the rise, yet instead

We are the territory time has forgotten-
on the steady and certain
decline

Not even on the mend-

Such it is,

Such it is to reach the peak or the summit
of civilization during 500 B.C.,

Such it is to fall in love at age thirteen
initially, then again when seventeen-

Such it is to become broken-hearted
while still young

Such it is to have all the 'good' departed
at twenty-one.

Now, at twenty-three and twenty-six we sip
coffee and tea, respectively, waiting

Waiting

Waiting

For it all to cease;

Not living

Rather killing time (while in pain)- or, more like being slain
by the second hand's ticks- watching them un-tell our story

Staring off into the infinite distance
with a blank face

Hoping for the period to finally sink into place
and finish this sentence.

Such is the fate for a game played;

To start the race in first place-

Now, winded, we don't even chase
having seen everybody pass us up
already we simply keep a steady
pace

And wait

Wait

Wait

For the whistle of the referee to blow us to some type
of consummation of misery,

Some type of halt, practicing Gestalt psychology,
we keep running

Gaining nothing, lacking energy

Hoping and hoping against all odds, against
all gods, for the commencement
of the ending of this 'love' story

While we wish, simultaneously, that we
would have gone slowly, taking
the tortoise as evidence

Alas, we didn't

Therefore we are left bereft, holes in pockets,
souls empty, mold on our cores, full of sores,
falling, failing, feeling like Greece