Fate

Ink on a canvas, some twisted soul's art.
Our lives crafted on the whims of a being with no heart.
It lets us love others, and then takes them away,
It crafts all our actions; dawn till dusk every day.
A dog to leap out, the screech of brakes all too late,
All were the designs of this being called fate.
The complications, the breaks, the 14.9% figure,
A family in tears on a birthday, wishing the chance to be bigger.
A camouflage pot, that's been hatefully crafted,
By this heartless, brush wielding, life breaking bastard.
Well, damn you fate, and all that you've done,
And next time I see you I'll be bringing a gun.

So, Fate, heed this warning; my bark matches my bite.
Use that 15%, and make my dog right.