Writing of Nothing
Not a single thought within my head,
My finger tips are full of lead.
I must write a poem for you to see,
The clock time is five thirty three.
I've written other poems today.
But only when I had something to say.
But I'm willing now to take a chance
And hope you'll give it a second glance
And decide that though my poem won't last,
At least I wrote it very fast.
I must admit this has been fun
And at 5:36 I find I'm done.
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