The Crooked Man Poem

There was a crooked man, he walked a crooked mile,

he found a crooked sixpence, upon a crooked stile,

he bought a crooked cat, who caught a crooked mouse,

and they all lived together, in a little crooked house...

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But the crooked man was sad, and once h had a thought,

why should he be crooked, when others; they were not,

everything was worthless, he heaved a great pig sigh,

and went and found a rope, and tied it to the sky,

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Upon a chair he stood, his eyes were blank and dead,

without another thought, he went and hung his head,

now the story's not yet over, for this tale is myth-ed and old,

go hide under the cover, There's something not yet told.

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There was a crooked man, who had a crooked smile,

and if you lived his life, he'll send you through a trial,

he lives for your torment, makes it full of strife,

and he won't be content...

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until you take your life.

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