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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 Vote for this poem
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