Odds on Favorite

To make a long, long story terse,

Be it blessing, be it curse.

The Lord designed the universe

With built in obsolescence.

Each twinkling little star and sun

Enjoys its own atomic run,

Exploding when its time is done

With cosmic incandescence.

Astronomers predict someday

Our own sun will blaze away;

They'll be a glorious display

Of sunburst helium masses.

Our little planet earth below

Will join the pyrotechnic show,

With blazing hydrogen aglow

And thermonuclear gasses.

Thank God this great combustion day

Is several billion years away.

So as philosophers all say

Why fret, why fume, why worry?

A jillion moons will wane and wax

Sit down, make out your income tax.

Enjoy your life, be calm, relax,

For God is in no hurry.

But, oh, my friends, I have a hunch

Mankind might beat God to the punch.