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Fri, 07/01/2016 - 04:06 -- Kimm

In this day and age,

     I only ever hear of one thing:

          Goals.

They're usually material,

     Sometimes pertaining to romance,

          But I've yet to find someone who wants more.

There once was a time

     When all anybody wanted

         Was to be seemingly happy.

 

My how things have changed.

 

What's the point in living

     If all that you're living for

          Are things that can be bought?

 

What are you really living for?

 

Where's your desire

     For the things you actually need?

You're working for materials,

     But what about your inner peace?

What are you doing

     To satisfy your soul?

What are you doing

     To keep your conscience clean?

You'll buy your dream house,

     your dream car, and wardrobe, too.

You'll spend so much time working for cash

     that you'll never have the time to satisfy your spirit, too.

Sure, the car is nice.

     That house looks good, too.

But you have to know by now

     That it can't last you forever.

The stairway to hell

     Is built with material things.

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country
Our world

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