The man stood at the lecturn and
he said I was a prideful fool;
I must repent or face an end
which I considered harsh and cruel.
It seems my father sealed my fate,
and so on back through Adam's line.
It doesn't pay, apparently,
to anger one who is divine.
I have to wonder, "Why free-will?"
It's not as if we have a choice;
for freedom cannot be our lot,
if we may not dissention voice.
I'll shoulder blame when I am wrong,
and ask forgiveness when I ought;
but though I try to get along,
I'm not the dedititious sort.
When somebody suggests that I've
been broken ever since my birth;
and I'm incapable of good,
I think that's rot, for what it's worth.
Of faults, I know I've got my share,
more numerous, it's true, than some;
but I have sought to harm no one—
compassion is my rule of thumb.
Perhaps it suits oppressive folk
to make us think we're full of sin;
by making us heed their advice
the outcome is, we lose, they win.
For has not history made clear,
an angry god is the best way
to keep the populace in line?
Forbid sedition, come what may.
To no man will I bow or scrape,
nor to an unseen magistrate;
I'll take the good, regret the bad,
and what's to come, I'll leave to fate.
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Author Notes
Today's word: dedititious (adj.) surrendering or yielding to another.
My much-treasured Christmas present for 2017 is a book by Paul Anthony Jones: "The cabinet of linguistic curiosities". Each page contains a descriptive story about some obscure or archaic word. It occurred to me it would be a fun exercise to try and write, each day, a poem featuring the "word of the day" from the book.
Thanks for reading.
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