Now you're twenty..
you've hit the grown stage..
Behind you the teen's age...
Life will measure by lots guage..
Now you're twenty...
Your life might be a damned ship at a turbulent sail...
Favourable winds might fill your sails..
Lest you seek the quick bail...
Now you've hit twenty...
Soon you'll pluck yourself a dame from the flowers in the south..
Churning out babies from the baby factory in and out...
Damned you be if she and the bills grow fat, choking your wages out...
©tor_val
T