Avarice
Avarice
To sit at the right hand of God,
See the Angels read from evil lists,
The great whore of Babylon, aint happy,
she has the greed of the Devils mist,
money was made in the mines were,
a greedy un sufferable ditch,
not enough to be worth many millions,
cheap labor, she sure has the itch,
an eye for an eye says Jehova,
Somalia, her tent there to pitch,
And hungrier still when it’s over,
When Karma puts in her next stitch
The wealth of the earth comes to nothing,
And you leave just as poor as you came,
And nastiness sticks in your craw now,
Old stupid she played the greed game:}
Don Johnson
Copyright © Don Johnson | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment