Forgive Me God

I sat with my pen as I had this thought,

Am I the only one who suffers distraught?

And it reminded me of the times of relief,

Of all the solace I found in the sheaves.

Forgive me God for I whine,

I have my pen; the world is mine.

On the garden lane was thrown a flower.

Lying on the path it seemed to glower.

It must have been plucked against its choice,

Ending it’s life, its killer must have rejoiced.

Forgive me God, if ever I whine,

I have this life, the world is mine.

Across the street was a lad selling fan.

He was smiling as if he was oblivious to humans.

I felt he was happy as I could never be,

And he greeted me saying, ‘I am an orphan you see’.

Forgive me God for again I whined,

I have two Gods; the world is mine.