A Conversation with God
I bitch; And I moan; And I rant, 'til insane.
And curse through spit, one spite-filled name.
For, upon His high, I lower all guise,
to castigate, this Lord of Lies.
When comes 'lone times, wonder do I;
What went wrong and as to, why?
One day, sunny; the next, gray skies.
Forever now, I only sigh.
I shrug a shoulder for your gifts, Divined.
Some gifts, I guess, best left behind.
But, now am old and a wrinkled guy,
whose better days have gone, bye-bye.
Though, now I know more of self;
the good, the bad, what life has dealt.
For, the one thing age has made me see,
is the god I've cursed is truly, me.
Written by carpemax
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