The Accumulation of Things
There is no more room.
You've engulfed our space
with the accumulation of stuff
With things you need,
you think you need.
Stuff I've always wanted for myself
but never abtained it.
Now you accumulate the stuff
infront of my eyes
so I can look at it and grieve and say,
"Oh, I envy you."
So I guess I am just as guilty.
We gather up teasures on earth
but forsake our treasures in heaven.
Then We get bored with it and say,
"Oh, who needs it anyway."
So you accumulate stuff
until there is no more stuff to accumulate.
And no more space to put it.
Now you only accumulate:
Moss and dust and dross and mock.
Mites and bugs and vermin and spiders.
Cob webs and ants nests and bee hives and roache eggs.
Envy and hate and discontent and devision.
And you have nothing else to say but,
"Oh my, look at all this colossal JUNK!"
By JeroMe
Copyright May 2000.
| HEIRONYMUS |
POEMS |
COMMENTS