Stories Poem by soren Barrett

Born out of straw and what people saw child without a flaw
A baby mystery without history under a star of awe
Words remembered long after, by a book crafter said
Transfigured wine, walked on the brine, then rose from the dead
Pages from many books, taped together while time cooks
Some discarded the rest holy regarded, here on his side two crooks
No further plans he overlooks his fans standing on a nail
His perch of wood raised above the crowd, now pale
He listens to their cheers below no one hears a word
A vulture turned dove a symbol of love becomes the other third
A cover song of an angel with lyrics they couldn't remember
Auto tuned and pitch corrected his performance they dismember