This was from. Few years ago but struck me as I scrolled the ‘old stuff’.😊
There was a crooked man
who walked a crooked mile
to wag a crooked finger
at the moon’s crooked smile.
“Don’t laugh at me,”
he warned,
dejected and forlorn,
feeling quite abused,
angry and confused.
“So you’ve come to
me at last,
like a ghost from
out the past.
Is it recompense you seek,
if so why don’t you speak?”
(her crooked smile did not waver)
The crooked little man
took a crooked step
along the crooked walk,
he took a ragged breath
and then began to talk.
“You made me what I am,
you wicked, lusty dame.
Wandering this lonely path
until my legs are lame.
For what you promised,
yes you know
beneath that sultry
silver glow,
that love was true and
free for taking.
Thus I have spent a lifetime
making
love, and hope
and wicked ties
only to find it
all was lies.
I believed but
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