|Does movement now allow computing lines?|
These scrambled lines don’t hide my ignorance
It won’t be long before you see the signs
I sort them quickly, making poets wince.
My sonnets suffer now from you, my foe
For what you type in my website as shown
You test, you prod, and I do feel your blow
A phrase, a word, a blurb, it’s clear I’m thrown.
But wait, iambic rules do guide my pen
To read, then write and be for all to see!
The truth be told, it’s clear my work’s not Zen
My patience long, so wait for me to be!.
The pounding beat of drives did spin this verse,
My random words just might involve much worse!