Poetry

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Do well in simple humble deeds,
Expressions from your wealth,
To those misfortune settles on,
Which took away their health.
Soothe the heart now filled with grief,
Though it’s a stranger’s woe,
Be kind with all that you impart,
It will return you know.

Complacent is a cousin to,
Self-serving and conceit,
The school of self is shameful,
If that is your degree.

The trifling of another’s needs,
When weighed upon life’s scales,
Can cost you everything you have,
And land your soul in hell.
Surprised to hear such heavy words,
This great demanding truth,
Don’t be deceived by scoffers chat,
There still are absolutes.

Its just that some in pompous pride,
Ignores God’s call to faith,
Exalts the king selfism,
To ride it to their grave.
Ride on, ride on, oh foolish man,
You’ll find there is one twist,
Recorded was all you have done,
And not one thing was missed.

And also written in that book,
Were things you did not do,
And those the greatest of all sins,
Could be the end for you.

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