man?

To every man to day,
There is favour,
Of his own servant.

And every next day,
Is a lonely neighbour,
Of a new rant.

'til the next stop be death.

--

'til the sky drops clouds, the few are we trust.
--

Learn, you have, understood, you had not.
--
O' poetic lines,
Your rhymes, entice had not,
Though touch do melodic binds,
For mouth says sole the inviting plot.
--
Though songs do the sweetness sing,
Them do not work the comfort bring.
--
If I can clear throats for utter,
I will not emotions suffer.