The God of Hope and Circumstance,
snapped his fingers and the World began.
Inventor of the sharks and fire ants,
for pundit's praise, created man.

All life evolved by selection chance,
by expiring flaws, from ordained plan.
Did God expect that men who speak
would improve beyond the first?

Did God want man to govern meek,
not reigning fierce with red blood thirst,
to conquer and feast on the weak
mocking their maker, with their worst?

Was man designed for second birth,
our time on Earth, a trial event?
Could man improve, deserving Earth,
with evolving change, designed intent?
Or was God faulted by wit and mirth
and too forgiving to ask for rent.

Why are we allowed to grow ugly old,
as bloom of youth turns to musty mold,
while fingers and toes turn icily cold,
and bodily functions turn uncontrolled?

Why should we prolong our life's coming end
with strange medicines designed to mend
maladies age places to this aging friend,
cheating our kin when our assets, we spend?

Yes, never should age frustration show,
or disappointment when ignored although,
with invites sparse, should we want to go
and friends are gone, death seems apropos