Vanities

 At times I look at what others have. 

And I wish in my heart.

 My longings might not starve.

I see with my eyes.

All the things they can buy.

For my home has nothing.

Except Jesus as the fence.


My neighbours seek to worship.

All the things made by hands.

And vanity of vanities.

Are the music to their dance.

I invite them to come home.

To meet Jesus in the air.

But all they ever say.

Is they cannot afford the fare.


The pretty things around them.

That are perfect to the eye.

At times I would wonder.

If to God they even cry.

I look close to see.

What possessions are all worth.

To loose your soul from heaven.

And give thanks for new birth.


I know I am wrong.

To want what others have.

Because it means nothing.

Without Jesus and the ark.

The life that we live.

Will determine our course.

Where we will spend eternity.

In hell or in heaven.

With Jesus as the boss.



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