Tiredness dripping from my eyes,
I open my word processor
and type.

I type nothing,
or perhaps something.
A narration of what I’m doing.

Presently lying on my side,
typing this story.
I say story because it
ain’t no poem.

A poem uses
rhymes
and metaphor,
scans and stuff.

I write this way just because,
really I don’t know why.
I think this is the longest
way of typing a lot without making a point.

Yep, you’ve just wasted a little bit of time
reading this pointless,
non-rhyming,
weird work of fiction.

Was it good?