Mary Magdalene The last Supper

Written by: ned flanders

Mary Magdalene. The last supper.

The last day I combed Christ’s hair 
I knew I truly loved him,
It was matted and tangled, I believed there and then that we were not all perfect 
Nobody was. 

I always liked a happy thought,
But I knew his mind could be dark and disagreeable,
His hair was stubborn and coarse
Like a Roman Soldiers mood.

As I pulled down hard to rid the tugs
I was aware of jealous eyes
As Judas Iscariot walked by.

His stony look said it all.

He would cut the Devils hair
If it meant he could kiss Christ’s cheek.