He crosses his t’s, he dots his i’s.
Whenever he finds someone else’s mistake,
It’s always a very pleasant surprise.
No matter how small the detail,
Even if it’s minute,
Nothing to him is quite beyond the pail.
Even to call him a perfectionist isn’t quite right,
Disingenuousness is his rule,
When taking compliments, he thinks, to be polite.
Dots, commas and apostrophe’s are his stock in trade,
All the tools are there,
He can’t understand, how, many mistakes are made.
Nouns and pronouns are the laws,
It doesn’t matter what "You" think,
He doesn’t believe in just be-cause!