Poetry

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Whoever loves money,
Will not be satisfied;
For the milk and honey,
Via the crucified.

Whoever loving wealth,
Continue lust and greed;
With no spiritual health,
In knowing what they need.

The number increases,
For what they do consume;
And never releases,
Until they go in the tomb.

What do the owners gain,
From all their merchandise;
Sinning causes a stain,
Impulses to entice.

Sleep for us can be sweet,
If we do eat a lot;
Your stomach feels complete,
Gluttony makes a blot.

A painful tragedy,
As seen under the sun;
Satan takes custody,
Your conflict has begun.

Then lost in business deals,
Having a bad child;
Going around and steals,
Attitude gone wild.

They came out of the womb,
Naked without self-will;
At death into the tomb.
Pockets nothing to fill.

They take nothing with them,
Leaving their legacy;
Judgment that could condemn,
Disobeys policy.

I have seen what is good,
What is to eat and drink;
Enjoying what I should,
And godly things to think.

Copyright © 2016 Richard Newton Sherrer

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