Our New World Poem by bobby beddoe

'Twas back in my school days in the 50's,
I encountered a Preacher friend of my parents;
Thought they were His kin,
'Th way they praised Him.
Yeah, Mom and Dad knew Him long before my presence!

They taught me all about that pheonomal Minister,
Who died soon after His friend smacked Him on the kisser!
Like His mother, Mary
He was extraordinary!
And... with that, I wanted to know more as grew older!

Now, mor'n Half a century later, with rapt eye,
I read in Holy Scriptures, actually Malachi;
He's coming back at curfew,
Well-aware of man's agenda spew!
And that is, Him again try to crucify!