Black Friday

I made this poem a year ago.


Walk me to Calvary and hold me high, on a cross where I will die.
I have been here once before, I remember my body being thrown to the floor.
I was different then and I knew what to do, but now I know it really was all for you.
They lifted me high, on a cross of wood, where my hands dripped with endless blood.
I felt my body want to give way, when the Roman turned to run away.
He proclaimed me ‘The Son Of God’ but it was too late, My God had already set my Fate.
And as I died on the cross, I thought of all that would have been lost, if I had not died for you.
So now I return, many years on, stand in your streets, listen to your songs.
But I always visit the place where I died, reliving it one more time.
So walk me to Calvary and hold me high, on a cross where I will die.


xxxx