Answering my computer

Mr. Paperclip man,
Please explain, if you can,
How it looks like I’m writing a letter?
When it’s clear as bright lighting,
‘Tis a poem I am writing?
A two year old kid would know better.

Does no warning bell chime
When short sentences rhyme
On occasions when “verses” occur?
Does a siren not whistle?
It’s not epistle,
It doesn’t even start with ‘Dear Sir.’

Or are you implying
Without really trying,
That my poems work better as prose?
How dare you infer
Such a critical slur?
Would you like a hard punch in the nose?

So, next time I’m penning
An ode to Lord Denning,
Please do not pop up, if you can.
Though your brain is immense,
No poetical sense
Lies within, Mr. Paperclip Man.