I wrote the first verse decades ago, and decided recently to finish the poem — so I’m calling it ‘new’ since 85% of it is.
Entered in a two-horse race
Each on his trusted steed
(Both heroes of humanity)
Were Selflessness and Greed
The course wound through the forest
Over bridges, to the town
Some stretches narrow, others wide
Near equal up and down
The racers, neck and neck
And nose to nose until the end
The finish line in sight ahead
Around the final bend
Two close-set oaks, the finish, marked
Beyond, the cheering crowd
The riders spurred their mounts ahead
The people calling loud
The gap was narrow; one abreast
Could fit between the trees
Disaster seemed the only path
No way for two to squeeze
Selflessness held back to let
Greed through to cross the line
Greed thundered on without a pause
He thought, ‘The race is mine!’
Greed finished first, but did he win?
Each one raced as he lives
Who wins in life? Who profits?
He who takes, or he who gives?