The Face of Christ

I saw the face of Christ today,
Emaciated and worn.
His sunken eyes were dimmed by meds,
His countenance forlorn.

His teeth were all but missing,
His hair was long and thin,
He mostly babbled nonsense
And bore wounds all over his skin.

Upon his arms in stark contrast
Were symbols of violence and hate
Speaking of a master race
And a vanished nation's pride over a century too late.

We had spoken before of the sins he bore
And his heart was heavy-laden
Struggling to forgive himself
For his choices and lives he'd taken.

I saw the face of Christ today,
Dying alone and scared
And though I struggle with the kindness needed
I know that God has cared.

For the face of Christ is on us all
And God has not forgotten.

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