|Can it be that your typing drives my daze?|
Bad luck, I cannot rhyme your strange entry
Levenshtein, your magic will clear the haze
My passion here you see is cranking glee.
I’m working hard on certain types of rhyme
My coding spews it forth and makes you snore
I’ll get to this, you can give me more time
For just that phrase, a poem is a bore.
But typing quickly, making poets wince
Perhaps one day my verse will smell of rose
These scrambled lines don’t hide my ignorance
This early version here my scripts expose.
Until my typing sees ol’ Bill, I stall,
The basic fact is easily clear for all!