Starveling Poems

The Starveling Cat!
The Starveling Cat!
I am fairly certain your limbs
should not bend like that!

The Starveling Man!
The Starveling Man!
If he doesn’t stop doing that,
she’ll hit him with a pan!

I tried, okay?

The Mottled Man!
The Mottled Man!
Lost one soul
And got a fan!

The Hobo Crimelord!
The Hobo Crimelord!
Too many tongues
Did they hoard!

The Hobo Crimelord!
The Hobo Crimelord!
Out of their cards
Made food and board!

The Hobo Crimelord!
The Hobo Crimelord!
Three voices speak
Two’re always ignored!

Random heist story that I made due to boredom (also, showcasing the criminal side of my main some more):

Solicitor, deranged.
Solicitor, deranged.
A great many heists,
They have arranged.

Everything is prim.
Everything is proper.
Everyone is ready,
and up to prosper.

A Spirifer for fourteen souls,
An agent for a solved case,
Constables for a masters’ cowls,
And Khanate Spies for nothing else.

The gears are in motion,
They bang at the window,
They’ve figured out a solution,
And cased up the widow.

Every step is hushed,
Every face is flushed.
Every man is for themselves,
While we take for ourselves.

Every guard is smitten,
Every death is a delight.
They’ve all been bitten,
With bright irrigo light.

They won’t remember,
Who broke in so fast,
They ain’t that clever
Their reports contrast.

The Sterveling Ket!
The Sterveling Ket!
Take the beast North
but don’t get him wet!