Proverbs Poem by Ojok Isaac

Wealth makes death
an enemy
But sickness of the
soul and
The body and the mind
make death
A friend to hold tight

Some sicknesses need
no cure
But the mind to be free
and some
Need a deadly contagious
disease
To tell others "at least yours"

The earth is a rich place
but poverty
Is like a plant on earth
that grows
In our life and keeps
its branches
In our children's life

Too much thinking of
tomorrow
Makes your today just
a torture
But making today your future
Makes the difference in all
You do