By Andrew R. Duckworth
Jealousy’s green makes men mean,
And brings the soul to be obscene.
That trouble comes by what we crave
And, to jealousy, become a slave.
What was it then, between two brothers,
When they were tasked with loving one another?
Jealousy came with shackles ready,
Making sure to hold Cain’s arms steady.
And when he was made to crave, depraved,
To jealousy’s weight, Cain soon caved.
And blood then cried out from the ground,
As Cain still standing, alive but bound.
And so it is everywhere we turn.
The more we see, the more we learn,
That jealousy’s shackles grip and burn.
Yet, wicked men seek what they will,
Seeking, destroying, and clamoring until
They have finally gotten their fill.