There lived a man, a crooked man
Whose journey was indeed sheer folly
He had hoped to meet someone, just anyone
To share his plight and story

Many had seen him walk his crooked walk
But thought him unpleasing and crazy
We had watched from afar, afraid to go near
And we had avoided him completely

We could've looked past his decrepit state
But we invested much in seeing with naked eyes
So quickly we turned the other way
We cared not if he lives or dies

We could've helped this man
To close the journey that he had then begun
The earth would now claim his body where it laid
As his soul disappears into the sun

Know this man, the crooked man
Whose looks weighed on us a tonne
We've lost the chance to see this man
The man we conveniently chose to shun

There lived a man, a crooked man
Whose fingers stretched feeble and thin
A note he did write with all of his might
And he hid it on his person before his journey did begin

To whom the note was for, it was never addressed
The man never did disclose
For reasons unclear and secrets untold
This note was the way he chose

"I used to be one with my own darkness
And it fed me fat with lies and fear
It upset people so and everyone left me
Even those I held so close and dear

It seeped into my skin and ate at my bones
It drove my mind insane
I knew I'd rather brave the walk
If I didn't, I'd die in vain

I'd walk for miles for I wish not to die alone
I'd walk in search of anyone
I'm wary of the shadows that lurk behind me
So I choose to walk into the sun

Now I've written this note in diminishing hopes
Should soon if I fall to the ground
At least someone would come to know of me
Should this parchment be discovered and found"

Know this man, the crooked man
Whose note bore his message sombre
He never did find the salvation he sought
He'd never known a happily ever after

There lived a man, a crooked man
Whose end had threatened and came
His dice were cast before he exhaled his last
Still no one really knew his name

Dawn came swift with the sun in tow
And a breeze full of fresh hale air
Morning light shone with a fist full of hope
And found the man laid sordidly bare

Stiff as a board with his hair unkempt
He wore his skin pallid and grey
His eyes closed with lips slightly parted
He'd left with something to say

In this coat, behind the lapel
Hid quietly a small unseen pocket
In it was found a quaint little note
Tucked in folds within a weathered wallet

The paper stained yellow and tattered at the edges
Suggesting that it was long and old
It had cracked with time, smeared with dirt and grime
And on it was ink written stark and bold

Know this man, the crooked man
Who seemed to meet with death in vain
See this man, the crooked man
Who finally broke free from his ball and chain

There lived a man, a crooked man
Who bore his life upon his back
It took a toll and weighed him down
As he trudged along the track

He'd resigned to his fate as the day grew late
Ignoring his unwelcomed guest
He had spoken no words as he continued on
Till he decided to stop and rest

But his health was failing and his feet were aching
His destination no one could know
He crumbled to his knees in the setting sun
As daylight lost its glow

He knew that dusk was skirting so near
He knew that night would come to shroud
And soon he would be overwhelmed
By shadows that would come to crowd

He curled into his lanky self
He cowered in shame and fear
For all the things he tried to leave behind
Crouched now in the dark so near

He trembled and quivered
No one could hear him cry
He whimpered and grovelled
Knowing that there was where he'd die

Know this man, the crooked man
Who then had given up on hope
He shivered and sobbed knowing full well
That he'd reached the end of his rope

There lived a man, a crooked man
Whose shadow far did it trail
He walked with aching joints
And clumsy footfalls ever so frail

The man who seemed to have prized his solitude
This company he could never appreciate
He had made this journey in a futile attempt
To flee from his grounded mate

The man had cursed and hurled stones at it
He shouted with his old, failing voice
Made known that he didn't want to be stalked
He begged to be granted his choice

But the man whose eyes were used and grey
He never could see very well
We see him berating his own crooked shadow
For he was old and never could tell

He hastened his pace but his shadow still stuck
As long as his feet touched the ground
At times he would rest, at the foot or the crest
Breathing heavily without a sound

Know this man, the crooked man
Whose clothes were tattered and torn
See this man, the crooked man
Whose body was tired and worn

There lived a man, a crooked man
Who walked with crooked gait
He'd walk along the crooked road
From sun up until it was late

His knees would scream with every step
No matter how much he wanted to run
We'd never know where he was going
He'd always follow the sun

He'd mutter to himself, of rises and falls
And of lessons his life had shown
But what we never saw or barely noticed
Was that he had never walked alone

He'd walk his walk with his cane and hat
Dragging behind him a shadow of black
It did what he did and trailed long and short
It accompanied him down the track

Know this man, the crooked man
Whose back was bent misshapen
He had made the choice to chase the sun
With steps sorely laboured and uncertain