Well you’re the devil. The devil is me. And I am god.
It gets hard to differentiate.
Where to point a finger. Who gets the praise. Where to pass the blame.
We and all of our choices are all connected.
Call it fate or sovereignty. Call it luck or consequence. Call it whatever you want.
Because we are all here. Doing the best we know how.
It’s never yet been good enough.
But with good graces and familiar faces
Somehow we get by
Somehow we survive
Who is responsible?
God has power over all. The devil’s hand is always in the cookie jar. I wander aimlessly.
It’s the most I have to offer
Take it or leave it
Somehow I’ll get by
Somehow I’ll survive
Untied laces; broken vases
Good graces; endless chases
God is right. The devil is wrong. And I’m really just not sure
About much of anything that I suppose
I had a plan. Even hopes and dreams
But they went to shit, and the fan they hit
I wrecked my life
Or was it You pulling strings, that the devil wove?
Oh well. Because I will get by
The same way I have
Grace or luck or trust or love
I’m just here, and that will have to be enough
Berthoud, CO ¦¦ May 22, 2018
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