Friday, October 5, 2007


You know, it was a boring day,
and I have nothing to say.

Write something
About nothing?
It's like squeezing water from a rock.
While staring at the clock.

I'd like to write about nothing.
But it won't mean a thing.
As the world passes me by,
No desire, no try.

And this poem has gone off-track,
It's 2 minutes of your life you won't get back.

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