One fine day
around the year one or two
(though it was not called that, then)
a male child was born, they named him Jesus
(at least that’s the modern equivalent).

By all accounts he was a happy child,
inclined to be a bit studious
but what is wrong with that?

He trained to be a carpenter,
which came in handy much later
when he had to join two timbers into a T
which had to carry his weight.

Unlettered was a description some gave but my he could spin a good yarn.
Not just any old tale but moral narratives that slid into memory.
I mean, man he could tell a story.

He was a good man, a kind man, even children were drawn to him.
You would believe none could take offense!
But some did!
My, didn’t they just!

Long story - short
They hung him up on that T to die.
Not the Jewish way. They only hung up the dead
and only then till dusk.