|Bad luck, can I not rhyme your strange entry?|
I’ll tongue some verse humanity can’t bare
My passion here you see is cranking glee
Oh man, that’s a tough phrase, so odd, so rare.
My drivel stings as much as words are dear
I’m trapped inside a box of wires and tin
As robots ponder, this becomes more clear
To write some lines for you, my discs do spin.
Yet random thoughts as words can grate, can grind
My coding spews it forth and makes you snore
So I will bore you now, just wait and find
For just that phrase, a poem is a bore.
My random words just might involve much worse,
The pounding beat of drives did spin this verse!