Jesus On The Cross Poem by Gideon Arthur

'Don't cry over spilt milk
It's done for good, for worse
Now it's red. Then; white silk
All will vanish we guess'
But their guess was empty
I should have shown pity

It was grandfather clause
Drawn before matter lived
The fat cats feared His course
Crooked hearts: they disbelieved
And lead many off land.
To build houses on sand

He died in pain crying
I stood with joy laughing
Yet His love shewed His sort
So now for Him I crave
The God man of the cloth
Hanged on the cross; a slave.