The little Jack who fell, in getting water from a well.
The Jack who tumbled down and could not save his pale.
The Jack who broke his crown with stitches and frown.
Sat, after many years; to write down...
The rest of it is what Jack had written.
No there was no 'Jill' when he wrote it and Jack still feels he was pushed.
Jack penned a golden verse and bought sweet words for his sass.
He shut out the candle light fighting the cold wind in dark.
He threw away the muddy robes and bid the shadows bye-bye.
Crude mind and the unsolved riddles lost within it.
He set ablaze all crooked devils in his mind.
And flicked in all that deserved to be forgotten.
He bought cognition with the ash he collected.
And determined to gather all broken parts still capable.
And guess what…
Jack lives in a new home now, which in size is small…
But where it's more homely. Where he doesn’t fear to fall
[all except the first four lines (and the last two) of this was written during october 2005, not today. Somehow I lost it and found back today. So added the first four lines and posted it]
Interesting info about Jack and Jill: http://xtronics.com/reference/jackandjill.htm