This time, when my mom told me to write a poem, I answered with "I don't know what to write." To that, she responded with "Write about anything." And so I did.
Here is the second part of my strange, poetic series.
I was told to write about anything,
And I took that seriously,
So here I am again,
Writing about the word “anything,”
Unlike the word “nothing,”
This word doesn’t have
A nice, interesting meaning,
Well, not that I know of,
As far as I know,
“Anything” is a compound word,
Made up of “any,’ and “thing,”
And now I’m getting too technical,
So I’ll tone it down a little,
This word is a risky word,
When one asks you,
What you would like to do,
It’s quite normal,
To respond with a prompt,
“Anything,”
I can assure you,
This is a big mistake,
Because now you’ve put yourself,
In a place,
Where they can ask of you,
Absolutely anything,
I would like to apologize,
For this incredibly weird,
Whatever this is,
But that’s what one gets,
For telling me to write about,
Anything.
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