Are you there, God?
It’s me, doubting too much.
You have me at a disadvantage.
Your will be done.
You give me the silent treatment.
Permit me to engage.
All in all,
I heed my read,
But, somehow it all points to your narcissistic personality disorder.
Letters of three.
Leggo, my eggo!
Ergo, manifest destiny wrestles with impunity.
I can’t see you.
I can’t perceive you.
Ergo, no go.
Others corrupted by your false hope,
Try to pass off your false hope.
Your excessive need for admiration,
Conflates humility with trepidation.
How can I be created in your image?
Uncle Walt told me that I contain multitudes.
I am more than that.
Nomad, but not mad.
Lo and behold: