James Tipp

Rookie - 408 Points (20-06-1945 / East London)

The Reaper - Poem by James Tipp

In the land of plenty they’re dying
Lost in their profit and greed
They have no need of a saviour
Money meets all of their need.
But their hearts are colder
Than crushed ice
They’re so busy working the net
They haven’t got time for salvation
No time to worry or fret.
So the world turns round on its axis
The reaper appears on their screen
No time to down load the meaning
The reaper has come and you’ve been.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 15, 2009

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