Poem: give me trouble
You give me suffer
As much as you can wish
Like of sentry silently me
I will obey everthing so
Will not protest
Don't say anybody to thy
Why so cruelly
You have gone to hit me
All trouble to my mind
I will keep cheast
By the conceal of stone
If this is die
So have gone to become
Must be loved thine
Will be die with to embrace