The Window Sill Man

In the very dull city, that is titled Erec,
There is an odd man, of almost anonymous sex.
He wears a white coat, and little white hat,
To cover his body, so you won't see his fat.
From window to window he cleans as quick as he can,
And they thank him and call him the Window-Sill Man,
For when he is done with his most brilliant of works,
The townhouse window sills, is where this man lurks.
He'll sit there for hours, and no one knows why,
He'll just sit on those window sills, and watch the great sky.
He doesn't ask for money or any kind of pay,
He just wishes to clean the city windows all day.
He's cleaned the U.N., several chapels, my car,
And he'll clean up yours too if it's not very far.
He really loves to clean up all prductions of sand,
And we thank him and call him the Window Sill Man.
Then there are those who think, his practice is all wrong,
And when he comes to thier windows, wish he won't stay long.
But, of course, he stays and cleans with much glee,
Which would have been fine with you or with me.
It made these fellows angry, and they screamed at the man,
And seeing thier rage, he stopped cleaning and ran.
The hateful and spiteful, devised a dark plan,
That would get rid of forever, this "great Window Sill Man".
They sued him for tresspassing, and touching thier windows,
They joked and they jeered, calling him the "king of the pillows"
And after the madness, the "great Window Sill Man"
Was thrown into jail, where he had no real fans,
Instead in his small cell, he only had bars,
He could no longer clean chapels or his friends cars.
Then he unbuttoned his coat, and took of his hat,
He let his inmates see, his putrid fat.
And on the prison grounds, he often played with some sand,
That lonely defeated "great Window Sill Man".