We Are All Given A Sliced Loaf Of Bread Poem by Qiniso Mogale

At conception our days are numbered
At birth we are each given a sliced loaf of bread
Each slice represents our days on earth
Each day eats up a slice
We are less a slice every day that passes by
Each day that passes by draws us closer to death
May be I'm left with four slices
Some are left with only one slice
We eventually all run out of slices.

When your slices run out
What have you chosen?
Have you chosen death or life?
Who have you chosen?
Have you chosen Christ or satan?
Have you chosen grace or disgrace?
When your slices run out
Would you have achieved your purpose?