Afterlife ─ An Original Poem
Did the vibrant preacher swiftly run, sweating.
He spoke with great eloquence and vigour
His baritone voice echoing in our heads
Like a bad cassette.
He spoke about a loving God
A loving God who slaughtered his only begotten son
To save wretched souls like ours;
To the poor and hopeless,
He asked to worry not about what to drink and eat
For there would be abundance in the afterlife
But a tattered-looking lad in the large gathering
Did pause momentarily
Asking himself what was wrong
What was wrong with having abundance now
And still having abundance in afterlife?
Image sourced from Pixabay