There’s Nothing

There’s nothing to say
Though I still write
Lost in words
That dribble
Down my chin
Into a stream
That puddles
On a stained carpet

There’s nothing to do
Though I still get up
Lost in thoughts
That float away
Into clouds
That darken
In the last blue sky

There’s nothing to keep
Though I still save
Lost in things
Gathering dust
Piling up
Into textures
Of forgotten hallways

There’s nothing to pray for
Though I still ask out loud
Lost in the idea
God is listening
Having a smoke
Stinking up heaven
In a poker game