© Christopher Raine



A Man Who Begs for Fleas


We are all up for crucifixion
There’s no willing,
Just desperate pleas
And some living, long for dying,
But there’s no proof in mysteries

A crucifix stabbed into heaven!
On that dusty hill,
At Calvary
Left, forsaken, in his suffering
Some fathers are hard please

In a muddle of strangled delusion
In a world, that was never
Meant to be,
Acquisitions and endless treasures;
A homeless man who begs for fleas

For an ending, free of suffering
We’ve all been aching
Just to see,
To have loved in a loveless world
That whispers of 'divinity' to me