Drawing a Blank
By none other than the writer of this blog

Today I thought I would have something interesting to say,

But I’ll admit my options seem to be quite gray.

I went to the magical land of “iwastesomuchtime”,

But nothing was worth even a dime.

Then I travelled to the site of Poetry 180

Where I searched and searched for  some interesting fat lady.

Alas, even that option failed,

And now I find myself having sailed

Into this experiment of a rhyme,

That, in truth, is nothing more than a waste of your time.

(The end!) That, my friends, is what happens when I can truly think of nothing interesting to write for you all. Now I know you’re all thinking, “What are you talking about, that poem was brilliant!” and I won’t be the one to disagree with you, but I will say I don’t think I’ll be winning any awards for all those minutes I spent writing that (don’t worry, it was only about two…or one, but I’ll round up to make myself sound infinitely more impressive).

“As Sunny said, she and her siblings did not know where to go, and they didn’t know how to get there, but the Baudelaire orphans were winding there anyway, and that is one thing I know for certain.” —The Slippery Slope by Lemony Snicket

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