The Cracked Pot Poem by Percy Dovetonsils

I suspect I'm one of God's mistakes.I'm a cracked pot, and he would have normally made sure to shatter me after I came outta the kiln, but he must have been exhausted and discouraged that day, so he forgot.And I just keep going on, though I'm clearly misbegotten, clearly a very minor mistake. But that's the thing about creation, or the Creator, he has plenty of room for mistakes.Makes ‘em by the trillions every nanosecond, and they just keep unfolding, persisting in their f- keduppedness, and hell, some of ‘em even surprise us by turning out to do something right when we least expect it, when we have entirely written them, or ourselves, off, hell, when we have entirely forgotten ourselves because we have shaped up to be so, so, misshapen....When all we can remember about ourselves is the wrongness of us, the unrelenting deadendedness of us. And then kaboom! We start doing some crazy thing that threatens to redeem all our sins of commission and omission.It's dizzying when that happens, and most of the time, because we are such dyed in the wool losers, we still find a way to royally f- k up our last chance at redemption, to take a wrong turn, to take countless wrong turns, just when the daylight, the way out, appears in front of us.Most of the time that escape route is a mirage, of course, so no wonder we end up running off a cliff, or going, at best, in circles, futile circles.And we're generally way too proud and stupid and pigheaded to simply stop and ask for directions.We think we have to figure it all out for ourselves, by dead reckoning, and death is always where we manage to end up.But once in a while, once in a mad moon, because there are so goddamned many of us mistakes, one of us comes through in spite of himself, does something by accident or by design that almost makes all the groping in the dark, the missteps, worth it.