The Origin Of Greed Poem by RIC BASTASA

it started when we were yet children
playing marbles and rubber bands
play money and toy guns
and gunpowders

we hoard them like some kind
of treasures

then we move to food
and other goods

to houses and lots and
money,

it does not end there
we move to other matters

like time and places
and diamonds and islands and planes
and even submarines

then to power, how other people's lives
have become mere words within the touch of the tips of our fingers

we like to be god,
God,

but God has His own mysterious ways,


today your life has ended.The End.

to God, you have become the flower of the day
taken by the wind and gone away.To dust you shall return,
and there is no more name left for that.

You are nothing. Nothing.