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Poems On / About GREED  7/26/2014 12:12:07 PM
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Best Poems About / On GREED
 
 
 
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  317.     

Razel Puppet's Evil Robotar

You think I'm crazy maybe I'm not
maybe it was my evil Robotar.
Yes, he was programmed to do the deed
he's filled with spite he's filled with greed.
Greed to succeed to make me lead.
I programmed him I do confess
he will do like all the rest.
Take over my plan that I do best.
controlling minds of humans
for I've experimented and I did test.
I will reign once again
in this realm of fairy land.
 
Puppet Lady

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  318.     

A WORD TO PARASITES

A WORD TO PARASITES
Some spend themselves though never groan
Whilst Jesus' sheep they feed
They deem God's money not their own
Unlike some plagued with greed

Vampires peruse within God's house?
Devouring hoards of gold
Sucking blood like a canine louse
Whilst scriptures are unrolled

While sheep in faith stretch forth their hand
In gratitude and love
With offerings with tithes as planned
By He who reigns above

Yet parasites in pompous frock
Who bumper crops would reap
Intermingle with Heaven's flock
Fleecing The Father's sheep

They've earned they say because they teach
The gold and silver's theirs
Stealthily cool and like a leach
They'll plunder Heaven's wares

For building up a church supreme
For greed or personal fame
They'll eat the fat and drink the cream
Without a trace of shame

With fancy jets and lavish cars
With lucre massed in hand
Like rich Hollywood movie stars
They cruise most every land

Have these been saved or still deceived?
They thrive as common tare
Too blind to know The Lord God's grieved
Or even fail to care.....
 
Michael P. Johnson

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  319.     

Hands

When a hand reaches out to shake another
The crowd draws in, bodies press against each other
Clawing fingers, scratching fingers, push the hands apart
In fear of change and losing what they hold dear to their heart

Be it oil, or water, or happiness
be it paper bills, or gold
It's with pride and greed and jealousy
That these clawed hands tightly hold

Yet the troughs of wrinkled, famished hands
Hold nothing but dry wind
Their pain is caused by trick of fate
For never had they sinned

So this is why the wealthy
And the poor cannot make peace
So long as one hand's full
The empty one's pain will not cease

Be it oil, or water, or happiness
Be it paper bills, or gold
It's with pride and greed and jealousy
That these clawed hands tightly hold

If we all took the chance
And put down what we hold in hand
Then we'd all be the same, and maybe then we'll understand
That peace will never come from oil, water, bills, or gold
It's peace when we forget these things
And each other's hand we hold
 
Cicero Grey

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  320.     

Reality of you...

The heart is of such fragile make
in wants and love it has no refrain
the head can temper, but only so
and can do nothing really to stop the pain

the pain of hearing you just wont do
I've decided that part of my life is through
and picket fence and man all I need
but your my friend, despite your greed

your greed of wanting me for a love
even if you try your best
and hold my image close to your heart
Its time to realize you were never a part

a part of what I wanted in life
your love was nothing more than a vice
and I turn away at last to that
and walk the straight road, your heart my doormat.
 
natasha headstrong

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