Simon Of Cyrenian
(Mark 15:21)
I Didn't Stop

I didn't stop to pick you up.
You looked so shabby and unkempt.
There was blood smeared all down your face,
And everyone scorned you with contempt.

All who knew me would not approve,
If I had shown you any mercy.
So, I stood aside and let you fall.
As all the rest, I did not care at all.

The cross you bore, that day, was heavy.
Your body in pain, it weighed you down.
Your knees gave way and you fell to earth.
And, the pain in your head was from the thorny crown.

I couldn't watch. So, I took to flight.
I saw your mother beside the road.
The man, called "Peter", was in disguise,
And I looked for a place a safe abode.

I could find no solace in my heart or soul.
The sadness and sorrow, no longer could I bear.
So, to this path of sorrow and pain I crept.
As, I was chosen to carry your cross up there.

You looked at me, with your soft loving eye.
Your cross became light and the path was made bright.
We came to the place where the cross would be placed.
'Twas then, in your face, I saw truth and the light.

Then all your pain and suffering,
You endured just for me...
That I might have life abundant
Not only here, on earth, but for eternity.

For there, as you hung in agony,
You asked your father above
To forgive us for what we were doing.
For, you were giving your life for love.

Now as I turn my face from Calvary,
I know my name in on your roll.
For no I have life eternal,
And you cross now, will carry my soul.

    Copyright By Leslie M. Willson, Sr.
               LMWillson@aol.com