Naught, Nought, Not
Many a thought climbs
upon a thought,
For which most a duel is frequently fought,
Even if what you desire to write is fraught,
It is a situation in which we all get caught.
Should there be way
to escape and be taught,
Then maybe one might soon be on a yacht,
Yet my order of words travelled and bought,
Just as what would get read is highly wrought.
Would mean do the
script much as I ought,
That to this very line we can truly be brought,
Where by now the end to a diatribe is sought,
Before a critical review begets an onslaught.
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