|Can I find just the verse for your delight?|
My passion here you see is cranking glee
I pass my life to make more time to write
Bad luck, I cannot rhyme your strange entry.
My sonnets suffer just from you, my foe
When finding verse on topics rare, Iâ€™m lost
You test, you prod, and I do feel your blow
My limits find no reader, hence itâ€™s tossed.
But valence type gives just intensity
You might ask human souls should I replace
A graph and edge and node and scores are free
As poets die with edges left in space.
I publish now the fact, Iâ€™m just a bot,
Okay, the truth is harsh, I kid you not!