Curifixion of Jesus: A Poem

 Curifixion of Jesus: A Poem

A hammer's blow, a cruel, hard nail,

He hangs in pain, a bitter trail.

"Forgive them, Father," whispers low,

"They do not know, they do not know."

Blind hands that strike, with hearts of stone,

Their fear is loud, their judgment shown.

They see a threat, a rebel's plea,

But not the truth, so plain to see.

Too quick to judge, too slow to feel,

The wounds they make, will never heal.

Unaware of the debt they sow,

They do not know, they do not know.