A failure at the noose

Tool of his chosen trade

His victims always lived

To meet a better knotsman

He pondered every night

Ignorant of his mistakes

Believing himself a genius

And the masses merely fools

They did not understand

How silk was better for the throat

Leaving fewer burns

Upon the swinging corpse

His knot was smarter

More efficient than the noose

When time-consuming coils

Though weaker he admits

He countered the problem

By putting knot to throat

Instead of back of neck

To make a breaking twist

Yet his flare was his undoing

With victims falling to the ground

Eyes looking with confusion

When they should have closed for good

The hangman quit

On a sunny day

Filled with a heavy heart

He trudged out to the public

He wished to hang

By his own knot and hand

Dangling from a tree

Dressed in his finest suit

His attempt failed once more

As the branch snapped quick

And he tumbled to the grass

Hearing laughter all the way

The laughter stopped

When he stood once more

People looked at him perplexed

Whispering of his creation

He smiled in wonder

As people ordered his nooses

Calling them the latest craze

The newest style upon the scene

So the tie moved far and wide

As gents believe they’re worth

These failed nooses made of silk

Will strangle men for all eternity