The Thorn Poem by Randy McClave

When I was born
In my side there was a thorn,
It gave me a reason to hate
To me there was no debate.
The doctor called it a birth defect
As I think back and reflect,
And that thorn gave me such sever pain
As if I were going insane.
If you didn't believe or think like me
Red is what I felt and all that I did see,
If we didn't have the same colored skin
In you I saw and felt violence and sin.
If you were needy and/ or poor
The pain would pulsate to my core,
And if you were an immigrant
From pain and suffering I would grunt.
I then began to pray
As I then did every night and day,
I prayed only for my suffering and anguish
In which I did languish.
The thorn and the pain was still there
I guess unheard was my prayer,
I sorely wanted the thorn removed
And I wanted the removal approved.
I screamed and begged in agony one night
Then I finally saw the light,
From the pain that I gave others and had felt
Unto my knees I finally knelt.
They placed the crown of thorns on his head
As he suffered until he was dead,
Then I understood why he suffered and was crucified
The thorn was then removed from my side.

Randy L. McClave