The Perfect Man

Let me tell you a story, Fantastic as can be,

It's about a perfect man, He who died on a tree.

It was not a hanging, that's far from true,

It's called a crucifixion, and He died for me and you.

Beaten and flogged til He was near death, 

I can imagine how hard it must be to catch ones breath.

His prison guards then made him a crown, 

Not one to put Him up, but one to pull him down.

See this crown was made of thorns, sharper than a knife,

But He knew it would get worse, that they would take His life.

They nailed Him to a cross, both hands and feet,

And He hung there, they thought in complete defeat.

But it was not the end, though He did die,

He lay in a borrowed tomb for three days time.

On the third day early in the morn, 

A miracle happened of which they were warned.

For in that third day this man rose again,

Defeating death, hate and sin.

This Man's name was Jesus, God's Son in fact,

He loves us that much, how crazy is that?

This Man's name was Jesus, and if you will see,

He died on that cross, for you and for me.

This poem is about: 
Me

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