by Bernard Pearson

‘Why did they let me 
Go?’ asked Barrabas
When I have no place to be.
Why release a murderer
And nail a chippie to a tree?
I did the thing they tried me for
And when they opened
That fetid prison door
I thought well this is it for sure;
But no, they let me go.
I heard the scourged him
And flayed his skin,
The man his disciples
Say could do no sin,
So why did they set me loose?
I am a killer born and bred
And should by all 
Accounts be dead
And yet they called my name
And it was he they crucified
They say that when he breathed his last
His old ma knelt and cried
No one will weep when my time comes
 I imagine most will be relieved,
 But was I really the only one set free,
 If what happened up on that cross
 Is to be believed.

Bernard Pearson‘s work has appeared in many publications worldwide, including; Aesthetica Magazine, The Edinburgh Review, In 2017, a selection of his poetry ‘In Free Fall’ was published by Leaf by Leaf Press. In 2019, he won second prize in The Aurora Prize. 

• Twitter