Simon Of Cyrene Poem by Costas Nisiotis

I took pride in my strength
felt my shoulders could lift cedars.
Mother and need made me sturdy
or a certain fate.
I grew up amid god-fearing folk and learnt fear.
I was tall and had to duck in the crowd that day
but the Roman grabbed me
and ordered me to carry the cross.

Now I have something to remember
when all strength fails me
something that will weigh on my back
until I close my eyes
something I owe to you, Centurion.