A Good Friday Poem:
The Cross is Ours to Own
The day is gray and gloomy, yet
Somehow it feels just right
To sit in contemplation
Of the day they killed The Light
A day darker than all the rest
But still we call it Good
Because Jesus died for us
As only a Savior would
We often want to forget that part
It is so hard to realize
Not Him but we should have hung there
For all to mock and despise
Truth is nailed there before us
The sin is ours alone
We may often try to deny it
But the cross is ours to own
Each crack of the whip
Torn flesh from the crown
Every strike of the hammer
His blood dripping down
The pain He endured
Swords thrust in His side
The anguish and despair
As His world did divide
We should be the ones
Who died on that tree
But “It is finished,” He said
Now from sin we are set free
A plan from the very beginning
His love on a cross of wood
A day where transgression passed away
And today we DO see it is Good
To read how other writers made “Own” their own, click over to http://www.fiveminutefriday.com