Poetry? Poetry is it, sonny Jim. Jimmy me lad? You're sixteen. It's about time you started to knuckle down and think about what you're going to do with the rest of your life!

A poem.
( in the free-form style. It doesn't rhyme or anything.)

He's probably dead by now.

I knew this boy at school when we were about nine.
He was really, really fat.
He was no good at football.
But I was friends with him anyway.
Because we were both good at art.
He's probably dead by now.