His Pain Our Gain Poem by Isaac Mendez

No love has any man than this
That he will esteem others' lives than his
We all had sinned and our penalty was sure
But the Son of Man his heart was pure
Our disobedience put us in debt
But the Son of man on his throne he humbly left
His birth was highly anticipated
Likewise, his death subtly orchestrated
We waited for his arrival
Only to arrange for his burial
He lived among his own as a stranger
No not just a stranger
The one who humbly slept in a manger
The cost of our actions was dear
But his love was undeniably rare
We were separated from our maker
He stood in our stead
Bridged the gap to bring us closer
He bore our every shame
Yet we considered his actions lame
He was supposed to be our intervention
But we have trusted our inventions
But his sacrifice is not in vain
It's entirely to our gain
Let us not mourn our awful past
But rejoice in our awesome future
Of which his resurrection bestows upon us.