Dictionaries are wonderful things.
Spell-check, I’ve always admired.
My brand new tattoo
has misspellings of two
Of the words for which
you were hired.

Now I’ll wander through life
As an object of scorn
As this ink artist failed to reflect
That it’s “E’ before “I”
When “C”’s not involved
I mean, really, how could he forget?

There’s a ship that won’t sink
On my chest, done in ink,
With the slogan of
“Ankors Awieght”
I was drunk at the time
But you ought to be fined
Or at least give me back
What I paid.