Easter Eggs For The Homeless Poem by John Thorkild Ellison

When I'm feeling lost and bored
I contemplate Our Holy Lord
Who rose from the dead on Easter Day
Much to the Devil's deep dismay!

I sit here in the street and beg -
No, not for me an Easter egg!
Food's something that I can't afford
And usually I am ignored.

I thought that Jesus loved the poor
But I don't believe that anymore,
I think the whole thing is a hoax
When I curl up in my cardboard box.

Is there no justice in this life,
Just hunger, misery and strife?
Did Judas die from suicide?
He might have been wrong but at least he tried!

His silver coins would have helped the poor
And fed a mouth or two for sure,
Perhaps his tortured heart was pure -
Now that's a thought you can't endure! !