Poem by Katie Torrence Grade 8

Quietly I sat atop my hill When suddenly, the roads began to fill. The silence was so harshly shattered as a man who looked so terribly battered, Carried a splintered tree upon his back And fell upon His treacherous track. A guard stepped forward and cracked his whip On the skin of His back which could not but rip. Staggering to His feet, He carried on and on, Even though His strength declined, almost gone.I watched in horror as he fell twice again And out from the crowd, the guards pulled a man.They pushed him out onto the roadAnd for Him, he carried the load.Feet, feet, I felt climbing my slopeAnd all that I could do was hope, That the blood of this spectacular man would no more spill, And that His fate would not come at the top of my hill.But He and two thieves were stripped of their clothesWhile the people gathered to here watch in rows.The guards threw the cross down on me with hate.Oh how could this man have carried such weight?
I was crushed beneath the splintered woodWhile above me, He silently stood.Awaiting His death,He took a deep breath,As they lay Him upon the tree.I felt His pain inside of me,And then, beyond anything I could not know.But then came the shock of that merciless blowAnd I heard the clank of a hammer on nailsAmid His cries and painful wails. Then suddenly, the weight was shifted on meThe cross was raised up so everyone could see.As the base of the cross was pounded into my surfaceI could feel His hung body, plan for escape, worthlessHe begged the Father above to forgiveAll of the people who did not want him to live.This man was different from any other I've ever known ofHe wished to forgive these wretched people and show them true love.At the request of a thief to His right,He forgave him, and then all of the lightWas dimmed and the noon sky was cloudedAs the land became shadowed and shrouded
Another agonizing cry broke outAnd I knew then beyond any doubtThat this was to be the end of this man when he saidHe was going into the Father's hands and bowed His head.A guard came up and pulled out his lanceAnd stabbed Him just in case there was any chanceThat His heart may still have been going,And from His gash, blood and water came flowing.Down, down it fell towards me like a water fallThere was no stopping it, I felt it allThe cold mixture of His given bloodAnd water that turned my surface to mud.Is this what I'd be remembered for?I asked my self as His family and friends bore His limp body towards His lifeless tombWould I be remembered as a place of gloom Where the King of the Jews was crucified and killed,Where His divine blood had been so cruelly spilled?They tore down His cross and carried it away.I saw it all, all that happened that day.I sat there and watched and then turned into stained mud.I was there, for I was the dirt that soaked up His blood.
Katie Torrence Grade 8