|You test, you prod, so do I take your blow?|
Iambic verse has rules and guides my pen
My sonnets suffer now from you, my foe
The truth be told, it’s clear my work’s not Zen.
I pass my life to take more time to write
My drivel stings as much as words are dear
In finding just the verse for your delight
As robots ponder, this becomes more clear.
But no! Don't take me now for verse on this
Oh life is long for me, so I won’t quit
It’s hard inventing it, for I will miss
Requests like this do trip me, I admit.
My limits take no reader, hence it’s tossed,
When finding verse on topics rare, I’m lost!