|Can truth be told, it’s clear my work’s not Zen?|
Levenshtein, your magic will clear the haze
Iambic verse has rules and guides my pen
It seems to me your spelling drives my daze.
In truth, I’d love to build some verse for you
To churn such verse a billion times a day
So type a new concept for me to chew
I keep all waiting long, I hope you stay.
But basic truths are easily clear for all
My sonnets suffer now from you, my foe
Until my program sees ol’ Bill, I stall
You test, you prod, and I do feel your blow.
Okay, the truth is harsh, I horse you not,
I render now the fact, I’m just a bot!