I've thought deep and true for an idea,
Of a topic I can center my poem on.
There was none that surfaced,
So none shall it be.

No weight of subject to anchor us down,
No limits to hinder, no thoughts to drown.
In the vast expanse where stillness is known,
The heart of nothingness is brightly shown.

Akin to the sound of one hand clapping,
Like raging winds in the eye of the storm,
Let us contemplate on nothing,
Let us define the absence of form.

A blank canvas for something to exist,
The absence for the heart to grow fond,
It is a silence so deep, where echoes are drawn,
The root of the void where all things are gone.

Without, none, nothing, doesn't exist,
Synonyms, or a sentence wrongly punctuated.
One thing is for certain: this poem's been fun.
A topic to discuss, indeed I have... none.

The premise of amounting to nothing,
Can be comforting.
If you think you are capable enough
To affect real change.
And if you are, and
Do not, you are no
Man. And if
None of us act,
We are all ******.

she was never in love
and never will
my hope was lost
but i like her still

A warm Southern summer night
Dozens of cork bobbers
Dancing the night away
Speaking softly.
Where has it gone
A thought not one had.
We were taught not to wonder.
It's just life
The way it has always been.

There is no need for noble graces, with you, I have none. Just one entreat, request and command: "Come."

'You' see me for what I truly am, behind this regalia of dignity and honour; hides a ****** man. Now come, and heed my command.