Saviour Poem by Declan O'Reilly

I felt the nails
Pierce my hands,
I felt the flesh being tore
From my body;
I said nothing;
I never even winced
At least not in public;
It would have displeased my father;
I stayed brave.
Truth is I’m not though;
But I had not the heart to do otherwise
Especially when I knew those gathered were hurting more
And my presence brought some comfort.
I suppose I am lucky –
My pain is temporary
God love them, theirs is not,
Not only do they bear it
Their children will too;
And that hurt is eternal,
And that hurts me more;
Still, there’s not much I can do about it from here;
Maybe after when I am down
From these crossed planks of wood
When I am free
When I am famous
I’ll be better able to help;
First, I have to die;
I’ll do a good job of that –
I’m already in the place
And the right crowd
Is gathered below me,
And beg of me for hope.
For that is all they want,
And that is what I’ll give.