Before I start, you need to understand that I am an issue with the problem that is about to be proposed. Also, I don’t usually include an introduction with my poems, I don’t usually like to discuss where the idea comes from, this one is special, for it has hit me harder than most.

O Greed

For what can be said of this path of life?

This is a deadly issue,

A SIN that is often misplaced in today’s world,

And most see it as the love of money,

But even the poor can be greedy,

This is often related to envy,

For one man’s treasure is another man’s want,

But a want often becomes more and more,

So more and more becomes nothing more that dust is the wind,

Yet hope is seen at the end.

O Curator, 

Purveyor of art and finer things,

The wine collection from hundreds of years ago,

Pure silver and crystal,

Paintings and sculptures,

Jewels and gold,

Houses and land,

What will you do when your museum melts in front of you?

To see all of your years and hard work disappear in front of your eyes?

Everything that had its place,

Dissolves in front of your eyes,

To not be taken,

But to simply melt away,

To return to the nothingness that it was,

And you are left with the knowledge of what once was.

O hoarder,

Pity is often given to you,

That is often because what you collect becomes trash,

What once was an honest pursuit, 

Now has become an obsession without direction,

Your aimlessness has become a crutch,

For which you cannot let go of,

Blue and Black,

White and paper,

Bags are stacked high and littered everywhere, 

Pizza boxes, chicken bones, food containers from three years ago.

Pity on you, fool.

O gatherer,

Though you have saved food,

You have neglected to share your bounty,

Jars and lids are scattered through your house,

Your neighbors may starve,

But you will survive beyond the apocalypse,

Or at least you might if God allowed you to,

What will you do?

Your want for the best bounty,

Has disrupted your purpose.

Will you hide in your bunker, 

And expect it to pass,

Though it won’t happen like that,

Your mass of food will not last.

O Collector,

Toys, shoes, dishes, purses,

Items that attained value through years,

That value is only seen by like minded people,

How many times have you gone into debt,

To get that one missing item,

That you bought for thrice its original price,

And when you tried to resell it,

You found that no one wanted it,

In the time you spent maintaining your want,

How many destitute could you have help,

Could you have brought yourself out,

Your current class,

Made yourself greater,

Made memories with your family,

Made new friends,

Seen unfathomable sights and views,

Will you miss your collection at the end?

O People of the World,

O Curators,

O Hoarders,

O Gathers,

O Collectors,

Rejoice in some sense,

For hope is given within Greed,

For Greed is a heavenly trope,

Though it may have been corrupted.

God is the greediest when it comes to His collection,

For though it is our evil against him,

That keeps us from him,

His greed is so great for us to be with him,

That he made a bridge for us to get to Him,

He sacrificed his own Son,

His Son that had never sinned against the Father,

And in His sacrifice,

The barrier of death was broken,

The gates were opened,

The only Collection that matters could be expanded.