In the mud puddle rejection glimmered
while another new thought awoke
a parchment place for a script began to simmer
inspiring an author’s next joke
Everything was doomed with original sin
no story was good from any striving man
where were the words to clear the rejection bin
what could be known of plain divine plans
Square pegs in round holes
with such is victory assured
my way and highways
winning can’t be demurred
And yet rejections rocket
like crumbling cliffs time assured
trust in breaking composite sprockets
stanzas and paragraphs so pure
Hope in the Lord before life fades away
papers dropped float in troubles
alive to fight another sunny day
Jacob learned of mankind’s skill making rubble.
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