Make Your Suit Fit Your Cloth Poem by John Sensele

Break not teeth and bones fighting God's plan
Unless you desire to wipe out your own clan
Embarking on a futile fission
That still births a morbid mission

Doomed to failure from the start
As your instruments fall apart
Cutting off your noses
To please a disease of the puny poses

You strike on facebook in vain
Striving to stay dry in the rain
When defeat stares you in the face
Slaying the last ace and its trace

That made you proud
While wrapping your pride in the shroud
Where on your wobbly knees you crawl
Vowing never again in futility to play a risible role.