Of all of God-o’s biggest feats
Creation tops the the lot
It stands alone, as well as soundly beats
The tellurian feats we’ve got
Without origination nothings genuine
If land upon that we mount
Has not the smallest plain feel
We fall, though were do we land
Take gods origination out of it
and concentration upon the own
Examine problems if they fit
To set the tellurian tinge
The bowler in the cricket compare
Will have the wickets tumble
But what if we emanate the catch
and nothing emanate the ball
Or what about the write
We attend compartment we listen to
Then unexpected no dialing tone
We nothing emanate the ear
Perhaps we regularly close the doorway
As if it’s only the little diversion
Then doorway falls off upon the building
We nothing emanate the frame
Simple things similar to toilet rolls
We take for postulated here
Will have no have use of if there’s no holes
We’ll nothing emanate your rear
Could boots have once been obsolete
No need for shod ding fees
We’ll simply nothing emanate your feet
And have we travel upon knees
The list goes upon but the mangle
Creation is the diversion
This poems not for your names consequence
We’ll nothing emanate your name
