Tetrapakgammon

As I rummage in the sweet and sour

Black bin liners of your hours,

Through waxy cartons, plastic bags,

Junked invitations, snot and fags,

For your papier mache identity,

I fumble upon your old deity,

He seems at least as shocked as me,

This surely isn't meant to be.

He points towards this world he gave,

To mankind, chosen, first and brave,

He chose to give us rights to choose

But didn't think that we would use

This choice to pick a life so poor,

Consume, consume 'til there's no more,

And in his turn he too was binned,

For a god who moaned less at sin.

The meek gave up inheritance.

Perhaps they never stood a chance ,

When faced of snake oil, smiles and beads,

Saccharine sweetness guaranteed,

Daily I sack your lifeless detritus - 

Tetra paks, plastic bags, razors, and lighters.

I know I'm a thief, so not licenced to preach

But fish out your God, and begin to reach.