O, Jesus, why have I forsaken You,
upon Your crosses all around the globe –
the homeless, lonely, and the hungry too,
those in the cold without a coat or robe?
And while You suffered, I philosophized,
locked in my head as though it were a fort
and hardly noticed when You came disguised
as people for whom life is rough and short.
And now that it is I who feel forsaken,
I much regret the way that I have been,
like fallen fruit that from a tree was shaken
to dark self-centeredness, a grievous sin.
O, Jesus, though till now I’ve often failed,
may I no more forsake You where You’re nailed.
Mario A. Pita