Poetry

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Rich Man, Poor Man

I consider me a rich man
Even though my well is dry
I drink from living water
And I set my sights on high
When I stop and look around me
I begin to realize
If I stop to smell the roses
Precious time might pass me by

I consider me a poor man
Even though I’m living high
I will trade my rags for riches
When I reach the after life
And again I look around me
And I start to realize
A fool is for the taking
But the meek shall rise with Christ

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