A yearning cast upon the stars,
Where in fact was a thought from the start?
To reason with such fool only bears out fallacy,
A kind that messes up to eternity.

However, this fool reasons with forbearance,
For he knows the end lights up in exuberance.
Though his words and actions dismayed voluntarily,
His confidence thus makes the effort to construe frailty.

The boy tells his words in deathly accuracy,
Yet messes up the speech, croaked endlessly.
How will such fellow stand from his knees?
That, in fact, he sought to be displeased.

Once again, ‘tis boy, knew himself a man
Plead the eve for the opportune; he’d run.
For this man can and no longer be dismayed
All from his heart, he’ll speak, eternity be forever swayed.