I don’t know why I bothered being born.
I am an unripened ear of corn.
Possibly sometime it will all make sense.
Or maybe, quite likely, I am dense.
In the meantime I sit on the fence.
This may be just a mood I’m in.
The question is, when will I begin?
When young kicking up a row someone said don’t start.
I hope I will not break my heart.
24th August, 2017