There Is Nothing but a Memory
There is nothing to the reports of my early –
or not-so-early – demise.
There is nothing I would like more
than for that to not be true.
There is nothing to be done,
when all is said and done.
There is nothing to see here.
There is nothing more to say,
except that there is nothing.
This is my response to Day 22 at napowrimo.net,
which asks us to write a poem that uses repetition.
rivrvlogr 
A wonderful set of nothings! Nicely done, Ken 💕🙂
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😀 Thank you.
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Very Zen, Ken! Have a GREAT day!
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The sum of its parts. Thanks, Ron..
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I think you need to add the audio! I read this, then went back and read it aloud–the rhythm of the repeated word created that effect of turning the word meaningless by the end of the poem, by making it, indeed “nothing.”
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I had considered doing that. Thank you for the nudge. Done!
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Indeed, Ken. There’s nothing to nothing. I read it aloud and it sounded like a prayer. Amen to that.
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Thank you, Gloria. I’ve added audio to it.
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The audio gave it a sadder note. I could hear the emptiness. I envision one praying while lost. Thank you, Ken.
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Thank you for your insightful comments, Gloria.
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Poignant, sad, disturbing and very moving.
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Our last resort, so to speak. Thank you.
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You are most welcome Ken. 😊
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Down the rabbit hole…(k)
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I hope to stay out of that one, for a while, at least.
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Very effective use of repetition!
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Nothing to it! 😉
But seriously, thank you, Merril.
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You’re welcome. 😀
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Excellent. And thank you for the reading.
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AH, thank you for the ear! 😉
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