It starts with my mind,
And the right hand with a pen full of ink.
Simply trying to hold and bind,
This page shall be my sink.
Wonders dreamt and well created,
By mighty people all around.
But I’m just a tiny tad,
There’s nothing I’ve ever found.
Everything around me seems so empty,
Even though all of it looks the same.
There can be no feeling so tempting,
Than nothingness filling your brain.
So why would you waste your time,
In a poem so bizarre and boring?
A poem that is a collection of rhyme,
And a handful of words pouring.
A day shall come in your life,
When you’ll be a complete mess.
That day, my friend, you would strive,
To get rid of this nothingness.