Always a bit suspect, when the sky starts so bright
God smiles sweetly before pulling the flush.

Just minutes later the washing’s blown wetter
Than it was when it fell from its cycle.

But aren’t we all falling, from good luck to bad,
Despite the choices we agonise over?

And aren’t we all calling, in good times and bad,
For money-back, win-win insurance?

We won’t get it. Hence what some call faith,
And others, sod’s law.

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