Simon of Cyrene
I took pride in my strength
felt my shoulders could lift cedars.
Mother and need made me sturdy
or a certain fate.
I grew up amid god-fearing folk and learnt fear.
I was tall and had to duck in the crowd that day
but the Roman grabbed me
and ordered me to carry the cross.
Now I have something to remember
when all strength fails me
something that will weigh on my back
until I close my eyes
something I owe to you, Centurion.
Comments about this poem (Simon of Cyrene by Costas Nisiotis )
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