The atheist is a curious creature, A gluttonous beast,
For he wants to be the keeper of a cake, and then on it to feast
To fit a square peg in a round hole!
They should try putting their consumed cake into a flat bowl!
But soon they, though now quite blind will see,
That having addictions to various fictions
And in competition to imbibe contradictions
Cannot have even a poem, and no deity.
An atheist poet, though he may not know it,
Makes many assumptions when assembling verse,
Such as that “violets are blue” and “I love you” will always rhyme and the meaning won’t disperse.
That beauty is beautiful, that a word like “meaning” has any meaning.
But if beauty is also ugliness and meaning is meaningless,
And if there is no truth then words don’t have to rhyme all of the time
And if a person penning poems is nothing more than complicated animated slime
Then matter in motion assembling meaningless words that only rhyme part-time
Using paper and ink that came from nothing and then calling it a poem
Is a contradiction.
And just as contradictions don’t exist, neither does a poem in a Godless world.
You may explain this
To an atheist
But he will just say as calm as can be
That may be true for you… but it’s not true for me!
