Bloodied Thorns

Bloodied Thorns

I whom have shed

            my blood for you

                        with the cruel thorns

                                    still biting my flesh

            say unto you

                        weep not for me

                                    but for yourselves

            no wails of woe

                        nor gnashing of teeth

                                    will you avail

            as the skin of the father

                        is visited unto

                                    the next generation

Oh, for Christ's sake, Harry

            make my day

                        and keep pruning

                                    those bloody roses

            and kids mind the thorns

                        as you the put the cuttings

                                    in the damned bin

            while I go

                        and put the kettle on

                                    for the drama queen

See also:

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