What you now hold in your hand is a poem
The filling of space till something else comes along
It may cross your mind, the question of why
This nonsense could even go on

As you hold up to the light this rhyme
Who's biggest attribute is the wasting of time
You may already know there's not a lot here but flow
It's not meant to tax anyone's mind

You might just consider it fluff
Fluff it may be but it's just enough fluff
To fill in said space while progress is made
On the chipping of my minds inner crust