Ceenoa

This is a poem about nothing,
’cause nothing is what’s in my head,
I really wanted to write something,
but my brainwaves all seem to be dead.

The empty is rattling loudly,
the dust bunnies dancing around,
it’s making the Nullarbour Desert,
look like flourishing ground.

But I shan’t be dissuaded,
from making a blog post today,
so I’ll just write about nothing,
in my own unique silly way.

© ceenoa