My first poem as a 19 year old

every day

we say this or that

but on death’s door

every lay

gift me

not a fool not a rat

but a hunted boar

gift see

please go

you’re story a mess

but calm with stress

please row

typical you

love is your charm

but out of yarn

typical brew

lifted sky

we often weep now

but style and pow

lifted lie

sweet gent

only once is twice

but magic my price

sweet rent