The Buzzards are Circling

The Buzzards are Circling

It started as just a trickle
My pickup broke and ole Blue died
Then I lost my job at Wal-Mart
And they repossessed my doublewide

Then things went down hill from there
Providence didn’t smile on me
I didn’t know what would come next
So they questioned my progeny

There was not a scintilla of good
That was happening in my life
But I decided I would not fret
When fate started twisting the knife

I had become the lowly worm
Crawling across the fiery grate
Twisting and turning in the heat
A victim of a cruel fate

Then I questioned my lot in life
Was I to be a nature’s cull
A vagrant with a nameless face
Thrust among the masses with the dull

Then I realized I was a king
The zenith of all creation
That fate would not destine my place
But what is my expectation

I began to examine my life
What needed to be made right
Wherever I could make a change
I girded myself for the fight

It was not an easy task
For others I could not change
But for me, myself and I
I had power to rearrange

I have not arrived at my goal
But up the ladder I’ll climb
And I will succeed at my task
With the help of the Divine.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Words required to be used by "Para/Poem Challenge "Open""  in this poem:
         Trickle...Lowly...Fret...Providence...Scintilla...Cull