|Can aimless thoughts, my words, then grate, and grind?|
This early version here my scripts expose
So I will bore you now, just wait and find
Perhaps one day my verse will smell of rose.
I render now the fact, Iâ€™m just a bot
My thanks to you to play with me today
Okay, the truth is harsh, I kid you not
Of course I am obnoxious I must say.
But this computer writes prose with no stops
This form of verse is hard to write with grace
My network graph is vast! It burns and pops
I look to Bill for rules or Iâ€™ll lose face.
My aimless words just might involve much worse,
The pounding beat of drives did spin this verse!