Crowds are uncontrollable
You don’t know what they’ll do
One minute they lay palms
The next they crucify you
Delirium at football games
Then they hurl abuse
Fickle frightening febrile
Joyful then obtuse
Crowds they followed Jesus
This he did not need
So he turned to them and told them
About his demanding creed
He was going on a journey
Where he’d lose everything
Are you prepared for that?
Think before you sing
I’m an old man now
I have my home and food
I wish to follow every day
Here in my neighbourhood
The question is attachment
Am I attached to things?
Attached to my way of doing things
Am I tied down by strings?
Brian Fahy
4 September 2022
Erris Poetry 