As daylight fades to twilight hues
 My tasks are nearly through
Except one final manuscript
 Awaiting my review.

Impatient for the time to pass,
 I settled in my chair
And tossed the title page aside
 With condescending flair.

My first reaction was reproach—
 A novice job, indeed!
The text was scrawled in ruddy ink,
 Thus difficult to read.

With haughty eyes I set to work,
 Blue pencil poised in rage,
Anticipating printed sins
 From every muddled page.

The choice of format was unique,
 Yet somewhat awkward, too—
A second-person narrative
 From an omniscient view.

It told the story of a man
 Pursuing God's reward,
Who walked the pathways of his life
 In footprints of the Lord.

Whenever hardships weighed him down
 His faith would set him free,
And everything would turn out great—
 Despite reality.

Between the lines, I recalled times
 My lofty choices fell...
Impressions of my own attempts
 Which rarely ended well.

I could not bear another page…
 No, not a single word!
The premise of this gilded tale
 Was simply too absurd.

It sorely lacked a human touch
 So readers could relate—
A healthy dose of common sense
 Would set this story straight!

I filled the margins with my scorn
 If plotting seemed contrived,
And penciled out each miracle
 Until not one survived.

I gave The End a bitter twist—
 True irony, perfected,
Then gave the title page a flip
 To learn whom I'd rejected.

Shame and sorrow overcame
 My self-assured façade—
The title was my Christian name…
 The author's name was God.

Finally I understood
 A sad reality—
God's epic story for my life
 Was edited by me.