V

A heart

Warm nothing cold

Skin soft

Responses bold

She’s the only

My must have

I would be their heartbeat

If I could

Her must have

Comfy shoes on her feet

“To protect her” I said

From the cold street

Weeds growing

as we speak

In life

The amount of lies

One makes

No more than white lies of alive

Keeping up with my strife

Her a sweet little wife

I need her

More than my inhaler

I hope

She needs me

More than she needs

A Thaler

From the fifteenth to the nineteenth

Hard to live

Rough around the edges

Too poor to give

Like a portrait

Or work of art

Over hedges

Over……….years