Yacht is not yacked,
It’s a word that’s been hacked,
With some letters that just just don’t make sense.
But spelling is crude, which rhymes with food,
Perhaps not us, but the dictionary’s dense.
Language is great, but it’s easy to hate,
When the rules are so hard to follow,
I feel for those learning,
A language that’s churning,
Out more words each year to swallow.
The abundance of words,
Whose spelling’s absurd,
Bizarre when you hear them spoken,
If thought faught what’s brought,
Whilst drinking some port,
It might decide that some words are just broken.