This poem is not very interesting
It has, pauses
Where there, should be none
It is not deep and meaningful in any, respect
It is not very, clever and not that much, fun
This poem is purposefully, dreary,
Its desire is to be everyday, commonplace and dull.
And just incase it isn’t, monotonous, enough
This poem will now, wander into a lull
Of: boring, and unexciting ordinariness
And it will stay there for a while
While we all sit with the humdrum reality
Of its unexcitingness
Realising that it has lost focus
Its rhyme scheme it no longer functioning
This is not an attempt to be clever
It’s not even an attempt to prove that
Life can’t be interesting all the time
It is not attempting to say anything about anything
Why would it want to do that?
For this poem is completely mundane
And that’s it.
Its finished, now.