He bore the cross all the way to Calvary's bloody hill
And there they nailed him up and mocked his name
And though they laughed, he did not hate them
He held each of us within his heart
For us he cried, "Father forgive them!"
And for us he breathed his last and died.
I used the fact that today is Good Friday as inspiration for my poem. Writing a poem with 14-syllable lines is difficult - it would have been even more difficult if I had used seven iambic feet! But I just ignored the iambs. Admittedly, this poem feels a bit short, but I was in a rush to get this up before midnight!
Sleep well!
Sharon
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