Whatever will i do with this head of mine,
it thinks of nothing,
no thoughts divine,
and when i come close
to pondering fare,
i sit and wonder,
i sit and stare.
Nothing ever comes easily
in this cognitive lump,
a heap of nothingness,
a neurological lump.
And if it ever decides to spark a fuse,
a thought, an idea,
i shall not refuse.
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