Today, I woke up feeling like a fool,
Recalling all the errors I have made,
And there are many. I have been a tool
Of Stupid God; I've been adroitly played
By the foul divine embodiment
Of that against which I have long arrayed
My skills and all my efforts. I have meant
To do better than I have, to no avail.
At memories of having so much spent
As I have of effort, things, I quail.
I focus, shout down failures in my mind,
Yet they flood in despite how much I bail.
In pressing forward, I may solace find,
Or so I hope, and that this day be kind.