I am an accident,
A misconception,
A misfire at conception,
A drunken mess of intercourse,
No man accidentally is born,
Has been torn and with scorn,
And in between the palm trees,
Is a little unease, a little to
Appease, you weren’t created on
Purpose says the man with no
Purpose, says the drifter, says the
Adjuster, says the alabaster I used
To carry, but an accident seems
Less scary, for on purpose He formed
But He knew, He has ordained birth
To take place, I cannot die without
His permission, the angels look
In succession, God loves so deeply
All of the humans,
In submission I live in this purpose,
With free admission the angels
Look and peer and see,
Humans hurt badly but
He wants them anyway,
I give in, I am not an
Accident