There was once a man,

By the name of Frank,

In a small town,

Next to a river.

He set down his pan,

And went to the bank,

For seeds to be sown,

There must be a giver.

A drop of a fan,

With it his hope sank,

Nothing he own,

But his liver.

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T’was not that he can,

Nor could he just yank,

For such a loan,

Was like a sliver.

Months later with a tan,

Now his panc,

Was that disown,

That is how it is hither.

Poem meaning: Frank basically sells himself in the form of loans, represented by his liver and panc[reas], in order to make a living. He works constantly outside to work off the loan which is why he becomes tan. However, he just has to take out a new loan eventually and that is neverending, like a sliver that can never be pulled out.