The broken man at Spidey Lane

took his time to cultivate

the bloody blades he held up high

to strike a blow to passers by.

And when they begged that they may pry

why he should shred them where they lay

the broken man, and bloodshot eye

began to whimper as they prayed.

“They always think that I’m insane,”

so cried the broken man at Spidey Lane.

So years would pass at Spidey Lane,

as neighbors wriggled in the dirt.

The broken man broke even further when he found, 

“How can I have my social life when everybody’s underground?”

A rat a tat tat. And a ring a ding ding!

“What was that?” He’d never heard that sound before.

A rat a tat tat. And a ring a ding ding!

He staggered across the creaky floor.

Everything died that was outside,

and he sang to the song of a neighbor to prey.

Rat a tat tat! “They could have a gun.”

“But what if they run?”

Broken reached onto his lectern,

- grabbed the largest blade that he encountered.

- Arched his arm into the air

- Swung the door, and –

“Ah, sir! A blade I would say!

I’m glad to see that you’re expecting me.”

A salesman slick with greasy hair 

And ping-pong eyes stood everywhere.

Broken man tried not to stare.

His hand still wavered in the air.

What’s a man supposed to do

when your assailant wants to see you too?

“Are you a ‘carni’ man?” he pondered. 

“My goodness!” Carni scampered in the shack.

“Look at that blade!” and plucked it away from Broken’s hand.

“Do you sharpen your knives? Do you have any style? What have you cut?

A human in half?”

Broken lost the red – his eye went white.

Carni sat in a chair and rocked back and forth.

“No, no, no! What have you done? A cleaver is better for that kind of fun.

You take this blade and give it a whack. If you don’t like it – then I’ll take it back.”

Carni man applied a grin, a toothless gash on putrid skin.

“You know,” and Broken raised a ghostly hand.

“They always loved my wife back when

and said that I was cross and vain.

They always thought I was insane.”

So cried the Broken man at Spidey Lane.

“When your mourning’s death has come to be

I will return to take what’s mine.”

And in a whimper and a wisp the Carni man

was but a swirl of lint.

Broken man sulked in a wisp of a lull

as the haze in the room became peckish and dull.

 He gazed at the floor as it blackened and died 

And he wondered the last time he mourned and he cried.

“I always loved my wife back then.”

Broken seethed and hissed and spit.

“She said that I was cross and vain.

She thought that I was bland and plain.

She always said I was insane,”

So cried the Broken man at Spidey Lane.”

A rat a tat tat! And a ring a ding ding!

Broken’s eyes began to sting. “Go away, you crazy man!”

Broken man stood and clawed to the bath.

The house was black with dust to hack.

A rat a tat tat! And a ring a ding ding!

“Go away!” He quivered to the ground.

“Leave me alone or I’ll do to you what I did to –”

Rat a tat tat! And a Ring a ding ding!

The sound came closer as it rang.

He stammered up and down the hall

to find his way into his room.

He grabbed the knob and swung it wide

as opal light caressed to bloom.

Rat a tat tat! And a ring a ding ding!

This sound became the closest thing!

He grabbed the cleaver in the light

and swung by a sheet that hung on a door.

It fell to the ground, and there stood a man,

a grin on his face, and a blade in his hand.

He swung to the left, and he swung to the right.

“You’ll never take me alive!” he cried.

He split his waist and guts plopped out.

He slashed at his hand which dropped to the ground.

And as they lay upon the bedroom floor,

there was a man that he exposed upon the closet door.

There was a bloody stump, and greasy hair, a blood red eye,

and a dying man who was everywhere.

And as the mirror grabbed his soul 

he saw the past as time flashed by,

and then remembered utter pain,

“They always knew I was insane,”

so cried the Broken man at Spidey lane.