If I am under Stupid God’s decree,
The way I come under it has to be
That I mull over life and only see
The many things that I have wrongly done.
I fear to add to the list, long begun,
That in recitation hinders fun
That I might have and makes me apprehend
The many ways that I don’t comprehend
Those whom I may in my word-works defend
From Stupid God’s predations, did they read
The lines of verse that I would write and heed
What seems to be a jeremiad screed.
Yet I must doubt if I Cassandra chase;
I do not know if it is truth I face.
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