What of this curse that haunts the common man
Eliciting false hopes of carefree days,
Has he not through the ages endless span
Lived niggardly, bereft of divine praise?
Compelled to strive and drag life’s heavy wain,
Dogma assured that he is more than beast—
Yet humbled quite in his quotidian pain;
Meted existence naught but held in lease.
One hungered day he found some bright red fruit
Within a bowl where on was so inscribed
That he should eat as to what need would suit;
To fill it’s void, the prosperous would be plied.
Each day the void was filled with less afore
‘Til rufous hands all scrounged that earthly floor.
© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.