|Perhaps one day my verse will vent of rose?|
For what you type in my website as shown
This early version here my scripts expose
A phrase, a word, a blurb, itâ€™s clear Iâ€™m thrown.
I look to Bill for rules or Iâ€™ll lose face
My coding spews it forth and makes you snore
This form of verse is hard to write with grace
For just that phrase, a poem is a bore.
But passing life to make more time to write
Oh life is long for me, so I wonâ€™t quit
In finding just the verse for your delight
Requests like this do trip me, I admit.
Iâ€™m trapped inside a vent of wires and tin,
To write some lines for you, my discs do spin!