The God And You Poem by Mahathi Mydavolu

God and You
(Roundeley)
Your problems please to God don't pass.
With faith don't leave your fate to Him.
He's idle Boss of occult mass.
He dances on your fealty's rim.
All that you try with faith is dross.
You trust yourself and act with vim.

He's idle Boss of occult mass.
He dances on your fealty's rim.
Your love and hate like clouds will pass.
Your ire, you yourself learn to trim.
All that you try with faith is dross.
You trust yourself and act with vim.

Your love and hate like clouds will pass.
You ire, you yourself learn to trim.
You learn to quietly count your loss.
And slowly make your problems slim.
All that you try with faith is dross.
You trust yourself and act with vim.

You learn to quietly count your loss.
And slowly make your problems slim.
Only your efforts, likes the Boss
And shatter soon all shadows dim.
All that you try with faith is dross.
You trust yourself and act with vim.