I want to fight the Stupid God, and yet
The wrinkled citrus avatar that's set
Upon us all is where I cannot get,
And I can scarcely be of any use;
I can do little to stop the abuse
I and others see is coming, loosed
Upon the world by casual pen-stroke
To wreak great ruin upon many folk
While some will laugh and think it a great joke
Until they are themselves its subject made.
Then they will rue when they've thought they've played,
But it's too high a price for us to've paid.
For some, the bill incurred will soon be due,
And paying will be more than they can do.