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THIRTY COINS

Trust made me His money-keeper.
Trusting Him, I dug in deeper,
Till He met the woman-weeper.
Ointment could have been much cheaper!
Compassion threw our funds away.
I wouldn't give them the time of day,
But He met every one someway.
And I felt like a stowaway.

CHORUS:
Thirty years, He walked our land.
Thirty times, I tried to stand.
Thirty coins, placed in my hand
Toss them all in no-man's land.

He should have broken Caesar's yoke.
He could have sent some holy smoke.
He might have stopped them with one stroke,
But we've become a common joke.
I wonder, is He who He said?
Can wars be won without bloodshed?
Or are His teachings all misread?
Can someone rise up from the dead?

CHORUS:
Thirty years, He walked our land.
Thirty times, I tried to stand.
Thirty coins, placed in my hand
Toss them all in no-man's land.

I'll tell them now; I have no doubt.
Perhaps a trial will flush Him out.
Perhaps the council is devout.
But wait! Why doesn't He cry out?
The scorpion is poised to sting.
A hammer's raised and starts to swing.
Could it be, He is the King?
Have I missed out on everything?

CHORUS:
Thirty years, He walked our land.
Thirty times, I tried to stand.
Thirty coins, placed in my hand
Toss them all in no-man's land.

Learn more about this author, Linda Ann Nickerson.
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