Jesus to a Child

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I fall again on the third attempt
The third always hardest to recover from
My knees bleed out of failure
out of the ability to resist holding the weight
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It seems forever carrying the cross alone
walking through, the dirt drying up on my sole
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Mary cries the tears I shed as a child on her feet
she, preoccupied with the shroud of her grief
the cloth stained by the blood and sweat of abandonment.
She'd hang this on the walls, proud of the pain and sorrow
of the child she bore, already buried and dead
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I have a father who hath forsaken me, a carpenter of promises
He walks the skies with his clouded feet and furtive responsibilities
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Till my death, I hang on the cross like clothes left out to dry
I am the insignia of leviticus unexplored, not yet a king, not yet the son
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The sins of mankind get laid before me open like a resounding verse
evangelizing the sufferings of mankind to the last two thousand years
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Will it be forever that the savior keep feigning his forgiveness?
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