At sixteen, he set about the task
In which he sat himself and asked,
When time is up, when stood alone,
How best scratch his years on stone?

For fear of nearing tragedy he worked
To find the words that freely said the best of worst

And so penned the lines
That in his mind,
Justified his selfish crimes:

“I sought to be a man of leisure,
But then leisure met the better of me.’