It irks the modern soul to think
Of how the God of stars and seas
And overflowing majesty
Could conjure up the idea of
A reddish swelling facial bump
To which we all refer to as
The pimple. Oh divine imagination!
How heav’nly all we see our zits
Contraptions of our Father’s glory
Well let us not forget the story
Of breaking wind and breezy weather
What sin is found in such synergy
But glory glory to have a Dad
As droll as this. That brings to mind
Our vocal chimes and why they come
Alive just during shower time.
I think God truly hoped that we
Could praise Him anytime, He did.
Just let me add colloquially,
The same Supreme who crafted all
These random idiosyncrasies
Had given me a helping hand
In wielding brave this crafty pen.
~tc©
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