A little poetry from my perspective. Working with veterans constantly reminds of how puny the idea of a god is when amputations, loss of sight and worse are not  have no hope of restoration except for the gigantic talents of men and women that create prosthetics and perform life saving surgery.

Reduction in Force

Your attendance has been abysmal.
Your attitude leaves a lot to be desired. Your work habits have been at best inept.
You’re lucky that you haven’t been fired.

It’s been hard not to take notice,
you haven’t been around in some time.
At first, I just thought it was just age
playing its tricks on all our minds.

But, in fact, no one’s ever seen you
in at least a hundred years or more.
I even heard you could cure some folks,
but they say you don’t practice anymore.

They say you used to know everything,
knew the number before it was called,
but now you seem to have no memory
because you know nothing new at all.

They told me you could make a mountain
using nothing but a grain of sand.
Many claimed you could make seasons change
just by waving your hand.

They say you knew things before they happened,
that you had the entire universe wired in your mind
but now they mumble that you’re in retirement
and have left all that extra work behind.

I sure heard a lot about you
and some of the things you’ve done,
but it seems that was so long ago
and since then there have been none.

Too bad you’ve been out of circulation,
because we sure could have used your help.
Things have been kind of bad around here.
You know how we like to hurt ourselves.

We’ve lost a few million people here and there. You know, small stuff like disease, war and plagues,
homicide, genocide, racism, division and dissension
but I guess that’s all part of growing into a new age.

Could have used some help with the earth quakes,
hurricanes, tornadoes and weapons of mass destruction
floods, fires, crime, inquisitions, poverty and
radiation sickness, HIV, Alzheimer’s and volcanic eruptions.

Sure could have used your help,
you know with planes falling out of the sky,
and people living on the street
just looking for a place to die.

We’ve got some new plagues,
but we have most of it in hand.
Probably not as good as you,
but no one knew your plan.

We’re doing all right for now,
although you come around no more.
We still manage to get things done,
once we decided to close the door.

Folks still stop past to see your house.
Many still come at least once a week,
but they know that you’re not really there
but still they hope they’ll get a peek.

Sorry, I know it must be boring,
sitting here talking shop,
but there are still some folks waiting,
for your other shoe to drop.

Sorry about the big bang,
we didn’t mean to disturb your sleep.
Of course while you were resting,
we were sorting through the heap.

Though you were the only one affected,
we’re sorry about the reduction in force,
but I’m sure that you understand,
especially if you consider the source.

Well it’s certainly been a pleasure
seeing and talking with you Bob,
but you know how it is with progress;
sooner or later, everyone’s out of a job.

Views: 39

Tags: Poetry, atheist, god, poetry, rhyme, unemployment

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Comment by John Aultman on June 3, 2013 at 2:28pm

Very good.

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