Ack’n’Can

Ack and Can I have tolerance,
Nak just doesn’t make sense.
When my music is demonic,
Maybe phonic,
I sense something like mnemonic.

Zero packet intolerance,
Nak lacks moral intents,
Why batch your zero packs,
In rucksacks,
Why it’s right to ignore Naks.

Are words so loaded,
May as well be ghosted,
Are words so bad,
They make me sad
Then make me mad?

Explode all their futures,
For your penny of silver,
Peace does fly when deep in the mind,
It’s hard to find,
People of that kind.

They wish to steal it,
They want you to submit
The message from the thievish,
They’re devilish
And peevish.