An Intimate Portrait of the Poet

Today, we're tasked to handle  the question that is Crandall. We hope to shine a candle on that most intriguing man. You see him in the market - his car, where did he park it? My word, and you may mark it, he's a most bewildered man. Scruffy, skinny, short, and bald, from where has he just crawled? That's the question that we're called to address in poetic verse. He seems older than the hills. Let's get out our writing quills to describe he who instills such awe, but in reverse. Let us peek inside his house where he lives without a spouse and ask who is this louse... and what makes him...tick? Look in the mirror, you say? Well, he could do that today, but they're all broken anyway. Yet, what would they depict? In the store, we see him stumble, his demeanor always humble, to himself, you hear him mumble. You might think he's a zero, but in his home we will find, where he often is confined, that he hasn't lost his mind. In fact, he is a hero! Every rabbit boy and girl, every woodpecker and squirrel, their hearts they will unfurl to the man that they entrust. Elsewhere, they wouldn't dare, but to the man they know will care, that man who has no hair, they talk just as they must. Before his trusty keyboard, another cup of tea is poured, how can he ever be bored - this, our man of the hour? Something in his heart is stirring, something in his brain is whirring, what the heck's occurring to this man of newfound power? Although he's not a writer, he's a lover and a fighter - he makes the world grow brighter as he sets the oppressed free. Have faith in this investigation. Don't say it's my imagination. It's a heroic transformation, and now, we all can see. He solves math puzzles all the time, and though some call it a crime, he always finds a rhyme -  Oh, that Crandall stud. It's like that epigraph, if he can make one person laugh, or better, two and a half, his life is not a dud.