Bad poetry

Seriously, I am having trouble writing my last poem. We're supposed to write a poem that uses "sound technique". I suck at poetry as it is and I really suck at trying to use "sound" as a "technique".

Easter of My Discontent

I remembered the cherry blossoms.

I wore my new white dress.

I whirled in blizzards of petals

And smiled because I was blessed.

God must be happy

Because I turned out so well.

I hardly ever complained

So I would never go to Hell.

But I read Carl Sagan.

My mind started to quicken.

Why should I tithe

In order to be forgiven?

I wondered why I went to church

When my life seemed a mess.

Despite my hours praying

I still had to confess?

I sat among the worshippers

And realized I didn’t belong.

I can’t believe the impossibility

Of any church being wrong.