The Little Lullaby I Ignore Poem by John Sensele

Tipping point to Hell
When I ring the bully bell
Imagining ugly misadventures my security multiply
When in reality I diminish my comfort supply.

Tipping to self destruction
When I glide on wings of evil instructions
Imagining repression, oppression and suppression live forever
Until God to my pesky ploys says never, telling me I'm not clever.

Tipping point to my end
When order of nature I bend
Believing it's my right to play god
Until I plunge my future into a pesky pod.

Tipping point to my fall
When I hurtle like a demented satellite to a wall
Where I fail to read signs of changing times
Preferring instead to swim in waters of mendacious mimes.

Tipping point to my loss
When blindly a biased die I toss
Beating my chest anticipating victory
Until I heed humility's advice to say sorry.

Tipping point can regress
If in good time I address progress
Desisting from embarking on disastrous deals
Enabling God to cancel my braggart bills.