I went down to my people
But none recognised me there.
I told them I was Jesus Christ
And was given a mocking stare.
‘Our Lord left us so long ago,’
They laughed and scorned without a care.
I was passed for a murderer
Who left many in grave despair.
I showed for them a miracle
But they had seen it all before.
An old gypsy fortune-teller
Spat and denounced its magic lore.
Some of the beggars scratched my face
Before flinging me to the floor.
The Deputy looked over me
And took me to the Mount once more.
A Manhunt charge, one sold my hide,
Five thousand dollars he would gain.
”Judas was a true Saint!” I screamed,
They all thought that I was insane.
They pinned the nails into the cross,
My poor blood spilt from vein to vein.
I hung my head down low and sighed,
It’s happened all over again.
© 2017 AGP