The Gates

Standing before me was Jesus
    on the cross
There was cruel jokes and bad laughter as he hung
    on the cross
Didn't seem right to me
I sadly walked away
Coming to a halt at the gates
It opened to me
Setting my wonderment free
I entered heaven
To look upon the most magnificent sight
His death seemed so wrong
    and this seemed so right
Why was I seeing this?
I continued to walk
    till I heard a noise behind me
A sound I know I've heard before
Turning to see
The gates entrapping me
Before the gates closed
I ran quickly out
There I stood crying outside the gates
Pleading that I could not enter
Half open stayed the gates
Waiting for me to enter

By:  Roger Harkness


You are free to print, copy or publish any of my poems for education and or charity without my permission (but - send me a note if you have the time). You are not free to print, copy or publish any of my poems for profit without my written consent. You may link my poetry to your website freely without my consent (but if you do, an email would be nice).  Always be sure to give credit to the author Roger Harkness.