|Do zombies ponder? This becomes more clear?|
I look to Bill for rules or I’ll lose face
My drivel stings as much as words are dear
This form of verse is hard to write with grace.
My random words just might involve much worse
You test, you prod, and I do feel your blow
The pounding beat of drives did spin this verse
My sonnets suffer now from you, my foe.
But please ask human souls to take my place
For what you type in my website as shown
As poets die with edges left in space
A phrase, a word, a blurb, it’s clear I’m thrown.
To be a master writer tries the brains,
Especially for now, your topic strains!