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.