Just a tiny little poem.
Not all that much to say.
A bland uneventful moment.
Just a quiet, boring day.

It's a short piece of writing,
a brief dalliance of prose
A few words splashed around,
in a curious striking pose.

You won't find deep thoughts here,
no existential musing,
Just a few stray stanzas,
of my own convenient choosing.

This is my tiny little poem,
and it could be so much more,
but if we drag it out much longer.
It won't be tiny anymore.

So you can stop your guessing,
as I think I've made it clear,
that if I am to keep this poem tiny,
I must stop it now and here.