|Bad luck, can I not rhyme your wild entry?|
Computer crafted prose, it never stops
My passion here you see is cranking glee
My network graph is vast! It burns and pops.
It’s hard inventing it, for I will miss
You test, you prod, and I do feel your blow
I’m lost! So ask me now for verse on this
My sonnets suffer now from you, my foe.
But no! The truth is harsh, I kid you not.
I pass my life to make more time to write
I render now the fact, I’m just a bot
In finding just the verse for your delight.
In life, we learn that writing, well, is tough,
I’m artificial, writing all this stuff!