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  • Bonafide Voices

Hoard It Not and Let It Go

Mathew Thomas

Death visits but once,

When? no one knows,

You know not where you go,

In this transient world,

We are but travelers,

Awaiting voyages to far off shores.

Ships arrive at the port of call,

Manifests prepared for the voyage afar,

So, prepare yourself and await your turn,

The greatest truth ever told,

Death is the only permanence,

None realize this truth that awaits,

For one and all with impatience foretold.

It augurs well to,


Alexander the Great,

Despite the riches untold,

Died with arms outstretched,

For all to see,

He carried nothing to the grave.

If riches were to buy immortality,

The rich wouldn’t never die,

But death awaits each one,

A sure sign of mortality,

The gold you hoard give it to the poor,

The finery you wear share it with the naked,

For it is of no use beyond the grave,

So, share it before,

It’s much too late,

And wipe a tear from a widow’s face.

Your friends will hover now,

But when maggots nip,

And the flesh rots,

The smell shall let,

None remain,

So, to remind you once,

Hoard it not and let it go.

(In memory of all those who served the poor and down trodden)

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