Prostitutes, drug dealers, gamblers and crooks

Ransacked Jesus’s temple, their actions over looked

Pole dancers and wrong doers, alcoholics so brash

Handed over stolen money, disposing of handfuls of cash

Jesus scrambled the staircase with Judas closely behind

Judas grabbed him, pulled him back “Are you out of your mind?”

But Jesus’s did not notice, his mind over-run with fear

He’d lost control of his people; aware the end was near

He pushed over the barrier, shouting at the top of his voice

“You have followed the wrong path way, you’ve made a sinful choice.

My temple is a house of prayer, but what have you done?

You encourage all things bad, turning wickedness into fun!”

He collapsed alone upon the step, burying his head in shame

Sensing tears upon his cheeks, wallowing in the blame

His time was almost through, little more could be done

But this was only the beginning, his suffering had just begun.


14 thoughts on “The Temple

  1. Sophie, you know I love your stories but these poems are something else! Keep going, girl – you truly have a message going on here and it’s a very important message at that. All the best, Irene

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