|Can drivel jab as much as words are dear?|
Bad luck, I cannot rhyme your strange entry
As robots ponder, this becomes more clear
My passion here you see is cranking glee.
You test, you prod, and I do feel your blow
This early version here my scripts expose
My sonnets suffer now from you, my foe
Perhaps one day my verse will smell of rose.
Yet random thoughts as words can grate, can grind
Oh life is long for me, so I won’t quit
So I will bore you now, just wait and find
Requests like this do trip me, I admit.
So jab a new concept for me to chew,
In truth, I’d love to write some verse for you!