Crucify him!

Reflect not on the bleeding Christ
But on the crown of thorns
We daily weave for a bloody
And a weakened world.

A world we wound with greedy nails
Upon a cross of climate change
As life lies hanging from a cross
Our last breath dies on a poisoned wind.

Three times we denied
Before the cock crowed and died
Three times we denied
That climate was our fault
We didn't know and didn't recognize
What stared us in the face.

We got a pass from Pilate
As we washed our hands, not his,
Of any thought of cutting back
To live a poor and simple life
That the poor might simply live.