Sunday, May 1, 2016

A Poem About Nothing

I've never written about Nothing, so I think that I will write
Something that is not there, in fact it's out of sight
I've written many poems about something, but Nothing's on my mind
The subjects are so varied, but right now they're hard to find
When I write a poem about Nothing, there's not much I can say
In fact when I think of it, there's Nothing to this day
Some days it's good to have Nothing, there's not a thing to do
Relaxing and peaceful, sitting back in the recliner too

I try not to think of anything, while Nothing's on my mind
Yet something always pops up, at least I am not blind
I let my mind drift, to a place that is nowhere
Where Nothing can be found, because Nobody is there

A great visit it was, to be nowhere at all
When the phone rings, and it's nobody who made the call
We talk about Nothing, and as the time passes quick
I hear the clock upon the wall, going tick tick tick

There's Nothing more that I can say, if only you believe
When your mind is blank, there is Nothing you receive
Since it is Nothing, and there can be Nothing more
Why should I continue, when it's Nothing I'm writing for
©Apr 26, 2016 Bud Lemire
                        Author Note:
I usually write about something, so it's a nice change to
write about Nothing. There's really Nothing to it. I just
keep on writing about Nothing, and Nothing comes easily
to me.

Click on author's byline for bio and list of other works published by Pencil Stubs Online.

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