THE SEED

by MARY PAGDATI
(NICOSIA, CYPRUS)

We’re told not to covet our neighbour’s possessions,
But we take out loans on hasty decisions.

To have that one thing, whatever it takes,
We put ourselves in situations at unnerving stakes.

We’re told to be content and not to want more,
But the bills keep coming and the income’s still poor.

One job’s not enough to make ends meet,
Maybe a new job will give us that treat.

We’re told not to lend or even borrow,
But we must do something by morning tomorrow.

Tomorrow is here - the banks want their money,
They’re out to devour our ‘milk and honey'.

Those calls from the bank keep me up all night,
My head’s spinning, my stomach’s up tight.

A meeting is summoned for the staff at the office,
To hear the grave news of business losses.

The stocks have suffered a fatal blow,
And sadly, they’re sorry to let us go.

This can’t be happening we whinge in despair,
Don’t you agree that it’s so unfair?

My heart is weary, my eyes are blind,
In a world so harsh, so callously unkind.

We have harvested ‘greed’ - the seed of seduction,
That which brings upon man, steadfast destruction.