Full of Nothing
Another day full of nothing
might'n just as well die
Oh well, just a thought...something.
I remember when a '.' was only a period
I remember too much
forget too little
The desert's so full of nothing
so clean, unadorned, pristine,
could be afterlife
Bleeding one molecule at a time
with no promisses, no regrets
or apologies
The days are jumbled
junkoid, thrashed
with anger and severe vengeance
Then the fields are plowed
with hate, sowed with unforgiveness
and watered in dust and heat
Bitter is a harvest full of
terpitude and bushells of
no lattitude and understanding
another day and it's full of nothing
poem by Midnights Voice
Added by Poetry Lover
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