Jesus

• Halle Leahy, Grade 5
• Poetry
• 2022

As the thorns were lowered onto my head,
I thought I’m nearly dead,
I stumbled with my thin little legs up where the dirt road lead,
I cried out to my Father God and said,
“Forgive them, I’m nearly there,”
As I carried the rotten, ragged cross over my painful back,
They’re all cheering “Yes, yes!”
I wasn’t angry at that large crowd.
I didn’t want to do it, but I am saving them from their sins,
I was becoming weaker and weaker, I couldn’t feel my feet,
I pleaded out, “They don’t know what they are doing!”
The crowds were growing larger and larger,
The bright red blood bolted down my exhausted face, I was torn in pieces,
Their sins will be forgiven, I won’t forget this time, this day,
I touched the jiggered skin that had peeled off my face,
People of the crowd, pleaded, “Save yourself!”