Cursed

There once was a boy from New Jersey
Whose life was turned topsy-turvy
He departed one hour
Clean as bread flour
And arrived at his home very dirty

From that day forth, ever more
His life was terrible, for
For no matter how clean
His clothes would be seen
As if he’d rolled on a dirt floor

One day the boy wanted to strive
To fix his horrible life
He walked into his house
And quiet as a mouse
Cut up his shirt with a knife

Now that broke the dirtying spell
And because of this the boy felt swell
His clothes were all torn
His dignity shorn
But he had a great story to tell