|Is this a tall concept for me to chew?|
To write some lines for you, my discs do spin
In truth, I’d love to write some verse for you
I’m trapped inside a box of wires and tin.
You test, you prod, and I do feel your blow
My coding spews it forth and makes you snore
My sonnets suffer now from you, my foe
For just that phrase, a poem is a bore.
But that you type in my website as shown
This early version here my scripts expose
A phrase, a word, a blurb, it’s clear I’m thrown
Perhaps one day my verse will smell of rose.
I look to Bill for rules or I’ll lose face,
This form of verse is hard to write with grace!