Clean pots
Sparkling cutlery
The sink has got no spots
Chopping boards but no celery

Do you have a job for me?
Hunger won’t let me be
I could kill to have a nice meal
But my conscience won’t sit still

Fourty-one theives and their leader
We’d cry open sesame
But if you’d share dear Alibaba
I’ll round them up and be your homey

Started a YouTube channel
Wrote blogs
Escaped my introvert shell
And made vlogs
But this poor soul just can’t seem
To do it the way the world deems fit

I’m everything but a kid
Billing Papa’s been forbidden
Since I got my wisdom tooth
Eversince I’ve felt acid
Scraping my gastric wall but it’s nothing..
Just hunger pangs of youth