Let’s raise a toast to empty thought,
To all the things that thinking’s not:
A stroll, a drive, a gentle sway,
Where worries simply drift away.
I love to walk and let my mind
Unravel knots I’ll never find.
Or fly through clouds, just gazing out,
No urgent need to think about.
Sunbathing’s bliss, with brain on snooze,
Should I turn now, or just hang loose?
The lazy warmth on golden skin,
A gentle world, just drifting in.
And TV’s glow, that siren song,
Where hours slip serenely wrong.
No puzzles here, no mental strain.
Just let the plot drip through my brain.
So here’s to all those vacant joys,
The mindless games, the idle noise.
For sometimes, thinking’s overrated.
I’d rather be un-contemplated.