An ode to the immature

An ode to the immature and the unworthy.

Spare me your frivolous troubles,

For your qualms bear no validity.

To bedevil me is to make a grand fault.

For the power that I hold is vast,

and to tempt me is to play with fire.

Dangerous and unpredictable.

After superfluous apologies,

and invidious smiles:

I ascribed to you the titles you hold.

You cantankerous fool.