Lord,
it’s me, your accordion‑wielding,
pun‑addicted child,
trying not to turn my whole life
into one big clickbait parody.
I confess:
I have clicked “I agree”
to terms and conditions
I did not even skim.
I have watched “just one more video”
until the sun did a surprise cameo.
Forgive me, for I have auto‑played.
Teach me to remix my habits
before they get remastered
into a greatest‑hits album of bad decisions.
Help me change the lyrics
from “I got hacked again”
to “I backed it up, my friend.”
When an email says
“Dearest Beneficiary”
or “Your package is being held
by mysterious authorities,”
remind me that not every hook deserves a chorus—
and some songs are just scams
in a major key.
Guard my passwords
like secret song files:
long, strange,
and not all the same.
No more “accordion123”
or “EatIt1979.”
Help me compose
something even I can’t guess without a set list.
Protect me from becoming
a walking viral trend—
so hungry for views
that I forget there are humans
on the other side of the punchline.
Let my jokes punch up,
not down;
let my parodies reveal nonsense,
not deepen someone’s shame.
And when the timeline turns into a tragedy—
bullying, hate,
misinformation on tour—
give me the courage
to use my weird little voice
for something kinder:
a goofy song that teaches,
a laugh that disarms,
a share that actually helps.
So that, when the credits roll on this digital life,
the outtakes show
not just silliness and spoofs,
but a heart that tried to keep folks safe,
tell the truth with a wink,
and leave the internet
a tiny bit less awful
than I found it.
wracton@gmail.com
williamacton.legalshieldassociate.com (Legalshield and IDshield subscription information and applying for associate positions)
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