You'll be twenty anyways.
You're hesitant because you know your hairs will gray,
but you'll be twenty anyways.
You'll be thirty either way.
between the sheets of snow and stressful days.
you know you'll be thirty anyways.

Come forty and fifty,
then eighty and one-hundred;
Ninety-three, ninety four
then one-hundred and one dozen.
No matter which way or when,
all help from friends and cousins,
you'll be thirty anyways.

Why Newton would tell you not to wear a seat belt

Going two miles-per-hour you’ll hurt yourself casually,
But if you add a zero to that you will be hurt incredibly.
Fine day we’re having, sure but the roads do look nasty.
No i’m sure it’ll be fine. But little did they know
their brains are soon to look like,
Well, dead brains.

Speeding two-zero-miles-per-hour,
Then in a flash, hearing scorn from Simon Cowl.
They’re in hell now,
Feeling very dead now.
This poem is deteriorating.
But it still rhymes.
So entertaining.

A foundational love for someone I've only just heard of.
        A generous man,
        Seeing through the ******* of the human facade we put up
        Everyday, core tenants betrayed.
On the ground here, my feelings lay
Naked and flinching, yet so close.
So close to the artificial zenith that we all make in out minds
A treacherous journey that we must go on in order to find
A hidden man in the spirals of our minds.
Find the adjectives of your emotions,
Find the name to the sea your heart swims in,
Find your flaws and likes alike,
        Turn them into loves,
        And remember,
        There’s no right answer.