I am like a dead man , forgotten in mens’ hearts.
Like a thing thrown away.
Pierced by fierce darts.
My troubles I cannot lay .

But he suffered so much more .
He who had done nothing wrong.
It grieves me to my core.
Forcing me to raise his name in song.

So when we are ignored ,  bored.
Unemployed , undervalued.
We remember his poor hands bound by cord.
Crucified , unloved , tortured.

And all this done for the rest of us.
And he didn’t even make any fuss.

……

We look at the cross
Something moves within us all
Yet unaffected

….

See Psalm 30