A Poem Of Nothingness.

Caved in thoughts run around the mind, 

Beams escape through the Venetian blind.

At the corner, poised a deaf 6-string, 

Music, melody, many thoughts does it bring. 

Staring out into the blue gradient of the sky, 

The Sun peeps from the clouds, perhaps shy. 

The television blares from beneath, 

I sit here,doing nothing, gritting my teeth. 

This is a poem of void, 

My creative side of the brain seems to be destroyed. 

Which is why I am annoyed, 

Now I know, why some authors remain unemployed. 

This is poem is a diddly squat, 

Because my blog seems to be as overwrought. 

And now because I have a long train of thought. 

This poem is nothing close to what it should have brought.