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Poetry: Accumulate

by Steve Burden

Created on: August 05, 2010

Brought nothing with us

the day we were born.

We try to be good,

but can't seem to stop

gathering goods, and

accumulating

stuff we cannot take

with us when we die.

When the trumpet sounds

the first thing we lose,

is the grip we thought

so strong and so sure

on our riches and

the clutter we had

accumulated

while busy with life.

Written somewhere in

a most Holy Book,

we are told where to

store valuables:

Heaven is the place

to store your treasure.

With no moth, no rust,

and no risk of theft,

there is security.

Only trouble is...

Accumulating

treasure in Heaven,

is not so easy!

But not yet too late

to accumulate

this kind of treasure!

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