My 1st Poem

Feel very poetic tonight. This is my first-time attempt in poetry writing. So be kind, critics.

Door knob door knob it will turned,
the undesirable person have returned.

Palm upwards he will stretched,
unpleasant words he will spat.

"Fifty dollars!" he demand,
"Fuel for my car," he command.

"Don't have fifty," I report,
"Then give me twenty!" he retort.

Twenty my wallet really don't have,
Pour out nineteen is all he get.

Poor me as he walk away,
he will returned when the knob turn again.