Dear Madame or Monsieur
would you pardon me?
I am a boy from little suburb of seventeen
I have this notebook and blue ink always with me
Trying to compose something worth since sixteen
It may be a ballad, novel or poetry
But I do not perceive genre because I just adore writing
I spend my abandon time wondering
What may make me a writer through my misery

So, it is about a mariner who was legendary
he always loved thrillers, adventure and mystery
He had this unsteady job that didn't pay good money
But his finicky wife didn't understand which was severely creepy
She fired him and he ended up striding off the street
Later he left the town and sailed for Newland which was eerie
The ship sank in the dead of the night, making him fatalist
Somehow he steered himself in the southern coast - where he had been wandering
The Police caught and prisoned him accusing of wanton activities
Now he is Scotland Yard Detective, applauded by everybody

It is a hundred pages, reading it may take a while
Yet I I really want you to read and scrutinize
It is kind of funny but I still hope you will like
I can make it longer if you love the style
Literally when I grow old, I want to write
I will be composing something idyllic
But till I'm not twenty, I need someone to help me
Help me.