by Eldon Weishelt
I gave my blood.
Christ gave His.
I gave a pint.
He gave all.
The needle is small, sharp.
The nails were large, dull.
The table soft, relaxful.
The cross rough, painful.
The nurses kind, gentle.
The soldiers cruel, mean.
The crowd applauds my sacrifice.
“They that passed by reviled Him.”
Mine is for 0 positive.
His for positively all.
Mine, at best, will prolong a life for awhile,
His, without doubt, can save all, forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment