Between Good Friday and Easter Sunday
He's dead! I cannot believe that He just died.
They beat Him and had Him crucified.
Now He's gone. The One I used to follow.
Without Him life is now bleak and hollow.
What shall I do and where shall I go?
You tell me what to do, for I don't know.
My world has fallen apart and crashed
My hopes all pulverised and dashed.
............to be continued
See He's alive
Comments about this poem (Between Good Friday and Easter Sunday by Royston Allen )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings