I pricked my finger on a thorn,
It was painful, but didn't last;
Blood flowed for a while
And then, it quickly passed.

It brought to my mind what Jesus
Went through on that final eve,
Where he bore mankind's sins
So we would no longer grieve.

I remembered how a crown of thorns
Was forced down upon his head
As Roman soldiers beat him,
As his cuts and bruises bled.

I remembered his great courage
As he stood silent when on trial;
Determined to please his Father
And win His approving smile.

I remembered how he conquered evil
As his thoughts and actions were good;
How precious was his sacrifice
To save mankind with his lifeblood.

My pricked finger no longer hurts
As the thorn is a mere memory,
Still, it reminded me of what Jesus did
To set all mankind free.


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