^ owww
I had to write a poem about Easter. I ran out of time at the end, so the last lines are a bit rubbish.
A man by the codename of CHRIST
Is famous for having died twice.
He appeared to his friends
With holes in both hands,
Despite passing the previous night.
Oh, the Romans did not give a toss
As he suffered away on that cross.
But the Lord, in his way,
Had meddled that day
And left those poor guards at a loss,
For Christ's mortal frame,
Whilst appearing the same,
Was apparently without life or soul.
So a guard who was near
Gave a jab with his spear,
But left only a great bloody hole.
For the spirit of that preacher most blessed
Had been divinely repossessed.
So by way of a grave,
He was dumped in a cave
And left his friends somewhat distressed.
Three days to the minute went by.
But then a Heavenly chorus did cry,
As the Lord's only child
Stood up and smiled...
Which is quite hard to do when you've died.
Now that's all very fine,
But the passage of time
Has rendered our Easters much changed;
Now more about gluts
Of eggs and chocolate
Than the King of the Jews once estranged.
So now, this seasonal cloy
Of new life, and bunnies, and joy.
This springtime bouquet,
A more secular day,
Must God-fearers surely annoy.
THE END
Last edited by MeechMunchie; 03-16-2012 at 02:44 PM..
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