I’m sixteen years old that’s “totes magotes” old!
I’m short and stout and I never do pout.
I’m not a guy and I’m rather quite shy.
I’m a Belieber, not eating beaver.
I’m bad with money and not that funny.
I’m no Tweeter, but a Walmart greeter.
I’m not your friend and I’ll never pretend.
I’m a bad Poet, sadly that knows it.
I’m all alone, with just me and my poems.
I’m a thief and The Product Poet’s grief.

Day 16: NaPoWriMo Prompt: Ten Lies