A man was crying over a grave and repeating,
Why did you have to die?
Another man approached him and said,
Sir, I dont wish to interfere with your private grief
but for whom do you mourn so deeply?
Your child?
Your parent?
The mourner took a moment to collect himself,
then replied,
My wifes first husband.
I''ve written a poem for you: Twinkle twinkle little star, you should know what you are, and once you know what you are, Mental hospital is not so far.
