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Avaritia
I have converted my time to money,
My money to plastic, been persuaded
To purchase products so passionately,
Not to be a skeptic, so dissuaded.
In this draining darkness, there is blindness,
And excessively one needs to consume,
Submit to the comfort of selfishness.
There are joys in luxury, I assume.
TV tells me, I'd be happy with wealth,
All the things it brings. It must be a gift
To be able to spend myself, my health,
When my sickening soul needs a soft lift.
That light from the blackness will slowly rise.
That Morning Star speaks, but only in lies.
poem
by
Tim Stensloff
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