Who wants to criticize?

Hello literary-interested part of the community,

I recently posted a question asking for critiques of a poem of mine. I've now translated the poem into English and am asking for critiques again here.

The idea is that I want to create a book for adults in the style of a children's book. It tells a horror story about a headless man and was inspired by this drawing of mine:

The illustrations should be similar to this.

Here is the English poem:

The headless man

Near this place, there is a man
that is as pretty as he can.
He is so tall, he is so long,
he has such classy clothes on.

He is a gentleman of bliss
but there is just one thing amiss.
You'll see it if you check closely,
there's nothing there above his neck.
No hair, no ears, just like I said,
because this man, he has no head.

He lost it very long ago,
and where it is, he doesn't know.
But he feels neither, rue nor bleak.
A new one for he has to seek.

So to the house there he steers.
he knocks five times, so everyone can hear.
With his knuckles very gently
so that he can be granted entry.

Rat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat

He listens, no one gets the door
So he just has to knock once more
with his cane, he doesn't fret
maybe no one has heard him yet.

Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud

The house gets loud, the way is still blocked
Did he just hear the door get locked?
He gets it so irate through and through,
this is just something you don't do.
He knocks again, strong as he could,

Bam-Bam-Bam-Bam-BAM

His fist just knocked right through the wood.

Through the air the splinters accelerated.
There you go, persistence needed.
The man steps in, well save and sound.
Is there a head laying around?

In this space here?
The kitchen dear?
Is the bed so soft?
Or at the curtains near the loft?

Regrettable, no head to find,
Should he just leave this house behind?

But hold on, what was he eyeing?

There in the tub, there's one inside.

It's almost too good to be true,
the nicest head he ever knew.
Oh whoops, look there, the head is stuck,
it seems that this is one to pluck.

Crick Crack

He grabs the head, he pulls it back
that everyone can hear a crack.

Rip Rap

It rips and raps, it tears what hero,
the man feels more and more impressed.

It's almost done, now just a twist.

squelch

It's done, a head just to be kissed.
At last, a head, look how it beams,
as if it came right out of dreams.

(puts eyes on a plate)

He doesn't need them, has no use.
Now fix the head so that it's not loose.
Look at him, in all his beauty
To paint him is an artist's duty.

A pretty treasure from his sack,
he leaves there on the table back.
He pays the head, because he is dear
and not a thief, not even close.

So neat and fine and there he goes,
No beauty may even come close.
And if he once or ever scorned
the head that had him so adored,
then he looks nice and smart
and he begins his search from start.

So make sure your door is blocking,
maybe you will hear him knocking.

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat

What matters to me most is whether the verses feel good, whether they are easy to read.