Mystery 1 Poem by amarachi Ossaji

When I think about life,
I think of the mysteries of the world.
Why are there rich and poor people?
Why do people get sick?
Why do men labour for food and women labour to give birth?
Then I look back to the creation story and I got my answer,
We were cursed from beginning.

The rich and poor are different because the latter has money.
But they all have one thing in common; they die.
The curse placed on our heads makes us suffer and that's why there's pain, sickness and suffering.
We were cursed from beginning.

I think about the animals, birds and trees
How lovely they are!
Look! There are seasons too!
But how do they fall in order?
How, I wonder?
But then life is a mystery.

Man plows the earth to produce food to eat;
When he is old, he goes back to the earth
'For dust you are and dust you shall return'
And I think very hard about this
But then life is a mystery.

We're on this earth for a reason
We all have work to do
So we must leave our mark while we can so as not to be forgotten.