Forgive me, Grammar, for I have sinned. My sins are [insert your worst grammatical sin whether due to ignorance or to mistakes because of rushed writing and other random chances of error].
Oh, Grammar, I’m heartly sorry for having offended you, and I detest all my grammatical errors because of the just punishment of shame (from critics who tell you that “you should have learned that in grade school,” when you actually know the rule, but you simply made an honest mistake, when they should have given you the benefit of the doubt, when they should have given you a modicum of respect even if you’re just a young writer, when they really should have said “please correct this,” but they don’t have time to do this, because there’s no time to be nice, only time for derision. Maybe they should have learned sensitivity in grade school, or maybe a little bit of humanity. And you laugh at them when they make such mistakes such as writing “the group are”, and your laugh is cold and vengeful).
But most of all, because my faults have offended you, Grammar, when you are all-good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of your guidelines to sin no more and to avoid the near occasion of sinful typos.
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