There Was a Crooked Man...

There was a crooked man,
And he walked a crooked mile,
He found a crooked sixpence,
Upon a crooked stile,
He found a crooked cat,
Which caught a crooked mouse
And they all lived together
In a crooked little house

Now do you ever wonder,
About this crooked man?
What crooked deeds did he commit
With his crooked hands?
Did he have a family?
Did he have friends?
When did his life become
So full of crooked bends?
So I shall tell the crooked tale
Of how he came to be,
But if anybody asks;
You didn't hear it from me.

A very long time ago,
He had two children and a wife,
And his beautiful family,
Was the love of his life
But even back then,
Deep in his mind, soul, and heart,
There was an evil voice,
That said, 'The crookedness must start'
And so the crooked man,
Became very paranoid,
And deep within him grew,
A very crooked void
He thought his darling wife,
Had fallen for another,
And that all of her affection,
Was just a cunning cover,
So in a rage, he tied her up,
Threw her on the bed,
And while she was crying,
And shaking in fear,
He bent down,
To whisper in her ear;
'I shall set this bed on fire,
'While you're in the bed,
'And when I come back from my stroll,
'You shall be quite DEAD,'
And then he set the bed ablaze,
The curtains and such as well,
And he made sure to cover her head,
So no one would hear her yells,
When the crooked man came back,
From his crooked walk,
The whole entire town,
How it filled with talk,
They said;
'Shan't it stir his ire,
'That his whole house
'Has caught on fire?'
But crookedly he smiled,
And crookedly he said;
'All must die; it's not a shame,
'That my wife today is dead,'
Then with his grieving children,
He moved to a new home;
A crooked little house,
Where mice and spiders roamed,
The children were quite miserable,
They wanted to leave the house,
So for crooked company,
He got a crooked cat and mouse,
But the children still complained,
Every night and day,
So the crooked man decided;
They must surely pay,
He locked them up all tight,
In a dirty downstairs cell,
And once again; no one,
Heard their desperate yells,
He kept them there for days,
And those days turned into weeks,
And the lives of those poor children,
Became very dark and bleak,
So there they wasted away,
'Till they were skin and bones,
And to this day,
The house in which they lay is still unknown,
And then one dreary day, many years away,
That poor old crooked man,
Realized the horrors he'd done,
With those oh, so crooked hands,
He understood how crooked
He had made his life,
And all the gruesome things he'd done,
To his daughter, son, and wife,
And then that crooked, evil voice,
That lived within his head,
Decided that next,
HE should be quite dead,
And then that crooked voice,
That found home within his soul,
Dictated that his death,
Was it's new and crooked goal,
And so that crooked voice,
That tore holes within his heart,
Causes Death to knock upon his door,
And his crooked life to depart

So now you know the tale,
Of the poor old Crooked Man,
You know the crooked deeds he did,
With his crooked hands,
You know of his poor family,
Killed by crooked twists and bends,
And how his crooked life,
Came to a crooked end,
And so goes the crooked tale,
Of how he came to be,
But if anybody asks;
You didn't hear it from me

END