Sorry —a poem by Addison

Sorry,
boy,
guess, maybe, it’s time
a lesson was learnt.
No cryin’, now,
hear?
Or it’s a switch ‘n th’ whippin’ shed.
What’s it gonna be,
boy?
God ain’t yo’ momma,
God ain’t yo’ poppa,
God ain’t gonna save
no child in no burnin’ buildin’.
God ain’t no genie
ya’ll summons at will;
God ain’t no people pleasin’
people person.
He be unmoved
by pain ‘n sufferin’
‘cause it be yo’ pain ‘n sufferin’,
ain’t His,
see?
He don’t need that.
God ain’t into fair ‘n unfair.
Tha’s people b’iness,
how they treats each othe’.
God ain’t got nothin’ t’ do
wit’ nat’ral disaste’s neithe’
‘cause they’s nat’ral,
get out th’ way!
‘N God cert’nly ain’t neve’
into no se’f-game,
God gots no se’f t’ play.
But you’s godlike,
ain’t ya child?
Ain’t none o’ that
gonna come t’ ya
‘cause He ain’t gonna
put up wit’ that kinda nonsense.
Yesum,
it be tailor-made
by yo’ se’f fo’ yo’ se’f.
Imagine that,
all this time
been runnin’
round here,
lookin’ here,
lookin’ there,
gracious me,
sit down child,
sit down!
I get ya some lemonade.
Like that, don’t ya?
Mercy sakes alive…
‘N don’t be puttin’ no feet
on no furniture, now,
hear me,
boy?