Twas the Nineteenth of February,
I kept date of it
On the socialist of media,
He said "What?
Are you doing?"

At that moment
A chill of the wind,
Swindled across my orchards
But what was
It to me?

I had told him
The usual
But kept in mind
It was february,
It was often

Just then he invited,
I felt as if a relief,
Or was it?

I had told myself,
Repeatively,
That this was the same
Moment as others.
When I had no clue,
Of my feelings.

Of course I was an adolescent,
I was in that situation.

He was a fifth or so,
It didn't really bother me.
Although I kept thinking,
Hearken! He hindered me.

Individually he said.
But the same feelings came.

Just out of my domicile,
I froze,
It struck me,
After cleansing myself,
And preparing,
Was i that eager?

I had noticed a second or so,
Of eyes on me.
It was three,
I know they were thinking.

But I didn't stop there.

I persisted,
And another obstacle hit.
'twas my neighbour,
What should I do?

I tried to obscure myself,
But she noticed.

I greeted her,
And she so,
But I, in hopes of luck.

While to my destination,
Thoughts flew.
But I persisted.
Thinking,
I've gone through this before!

There, hounds.
Many of them!
But, I in patience.

It struck me,
Over others,
Id flee at the first doubt,
But he was persuasive,
I hadn't seen clearly.
Full of hatred and grieve.