A blank page, this isny right,
in fact, it's bloody shite!
The page should be filled wi' text,
a curious mix ae Scottish and English,
It's whit a speak and also write.
My rhyming, there, jist fell oot,
but quick as a flash, I'll right that wrong
then I'll sing a happy wee song.
A song aboot rhymin' an' stuff,
Scottish an' English, written by a wee scruff.
Next line is the last,
and with this, the poem is past.