Beforeword: I came across this young poet—Cherry Paul Ede’s—powerful rendition of Fragile Dogubo’s poem: “Gucci Cross” which I first posted in 2022. Reposting it now with the lyrics:

“I don’t know who needs to hear this, but Jesus was not crucified on a Gucci cross. He didn’t have on a crown of Versace thorns or Nike shoes on his feet when the nails pierced through. There was nothing bougie about Calvary. That old raggedy wooden cross wasn’t even befitting to hold the carpenter’s son, but there our God hung, held on by His love for us, by His love for all.

It wasn’t the red carpet affair for your favorite celebs. Matter of fact, the only paparazzi was an angry mob as a crowd of witnesses. Once upon a time, I thought the crucifixion was like the Grammys, an award show only for a self-righteous view. But the Bible didn’t mention an ovation – only wrongful accusation, hate speech and boos from fools. The King of Glory came through.

Jesus “felt every nail, felt every whiplash, every rib crack. It was for you that He embraced the pain.

Jesus was placed in the tomb, but then He showed up on the third day like, ‘I’m good, and you are, too’ — one with the Father, my blood makes you brand new. So what other proof do you need that God loves you?

So when the serpent comes to the ring – hissing, whispering deceitful accusations speaking in passive tongues. This is clapback season. Declare: fully my sins are forgiven.

I do not know who needs to hear this, but Jesus was not crucified on the Gucci cross. It doesn’t matter your age, gender, race or net worth – only that you have been made holy.”

I’m grateful for the old rugged cross and the blood that saves!

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Posted 2022 & Reposted 2025

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In creative solidarity, Dee