Picking up a pen, with nothing particular in mind <br />Squeezing the brain, to write a poem of some kind <br />Out came a sentence or two, just faint, incoherent sparks <br />Leading to nowhere, but shrouded again in the dark. <br /> <br />Still lacking a rhyme, the brain kept on working <br />Out came nothing, but a sensation of whirling <br />Feeling much frustrated, the mind started to revolve <br />Out came this poem, finally the problem was solved.<br /><br />Han Min Ohn<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nihility-a-poem-itself/
