Fickle is the Crowd

by | Mar 4, 2010 | Poetry | 0 comments

The excited crowds had waited
To watch their Saviour pass
The palms tree fronds they gathered
They laid before His ass

They cheered as if He’d conquered
The Romans by Himself
Had banished them forever
And gave them all their wealth

His foes were far from happy
They plotted through the night
They hated this Messiah
Who would not stand and fight

He told His twelve disciples
They had no need to fear
But Judas took their silver
And He knew the end was near

The Romans took Him prisoner
Disciples quickly fled
Denied they ever knew Him
Just like He had said

The commander of the Romans
Did not want Him dead
But the priests demanded Pontius
Should crucify instead

The crowds that cheered on Friday
Now jeered and laughed as He
Dragged His heavy wooden cross
To the hill at Calvary

They laughed at every sickening stroke
Of hammer striking nail
His naked body crucified
His face now drawn and pale

So soon they had forgotten
His wish to set them free
They witnessed all his anguish
That day at Calvary

And as they slowly broke up
They knew what they had done
They’d sinned against their Holy God
And killed His only Son


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *