There's nothing quite as annoying as a word on the tip of your tongue,
You search round your head trying to find it - but no, it's definitely gone.
You decide that you'll distract yourself, let it rise to the top on its own,
Then at some point later that evening you randomly shout ‘IT'S A HOMOPHONE'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem