You Pierce me with harsh words,
Thinking I won't ever react,
You are right In this,
Yet I feel each & every act.
When they pierce me with words,
I go to the one who was pierced,
I leave my wounds open to Him,
For He my petitions doth hear.
If they called the master Beelzebub,
So what if they call me words,
My prayers reaches His very throne,
He answers my every word.
It's a reward of being too good,
My pain is borne by Christ,
I leave all insults to Him,
As my soul doth cry
Note: This poem was written by me when someone called me incompetent. The one who was pierced stands for Christ Himself.