DISEASE OF MORE

Disease of More by Slim Gravy

DISEASE OF MORE

Disease of More
Is not just lore—
Cunning, baffling, conniving

Conspires against
Those on the fence
Marauding all that’s Holy

It wants it all
It heeds the call
From none but the unholy

This unknown cure
Engulfs the pure
Wasting all that surrounds it

It cries, “More, More,”
It keeps close score
And always wins the battle

We must not yield
The playing field
To what seeks our destruction

The leech cried, “Give,
Succumb and live,”
Knowing too well our weakness

Deny ourselves
What’s on the shelves
Or we shall surely falter

If we look high
‘Tween land and sky
We might avoid destruction.

For this:

Disease of More
Is not just lore—
Cunning, baffling, conniving

A Poem by Slim Gravy

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