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But I like cookies...

8 Years Ago

I'm kidding...this poem is called Subtraction...

Connecting the dots
Making stock market patterns
Wiping the snot
Twice over, soul's shattered

Roid rage overload
The anger can't be directed
Gas line explodes
Calvin calls him unelected

Unable to complete
Humanity's prime directive
A God's love replete
Enough to be very selective

Surgical scars
Have gone unnoticed
Quickening cars
Lead to a funeral opus

A hole in the ground
Oblong in scope
An ending so sound
Devoid of hope

The others selected
Naturally so
Totally dejected
Habitual role

This is the story
For too many people
Too little glory
Beyond the steeple

What is the point
Of tying the knot?
Now in the joint
Since the nerves are shot

No fulcrum,
No center of mass
All tantrum,
All out of class

Since there is no child
Biologically to raise
All prayers are just mild
Simple speech, minus the praise

But, the plotting plots on
Despite what I write
About thirty, youth is gone
But life is still slight

A man, his full purpose
Going down the utility chute
The seed may be surplus
But that could very well be moot

And so he's now here
The bottom of the battery
Feeling such small fear
He is way out of flattery

Yet, the bottom stands tall
The negative sign on the base
A miracle called The Fall
True freedom, minus the grace

Down here at our level
Going through the daily grind
Feeling odd and disheveled
And somehow, I don't mind

Subtract out the praise
Cancel out all the glory
Eliminate the lie of grace
It makes for a better story

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