If I could write a mindless poem,
I'd call that poem "Mindless";
it would start with a condition,
then rhyme with this word -- kindness.
Should I then dare to continue
with this well-named po-em,
I'd jot down two more lines of verse,
then prob'ly go ho-em.
I should stop now with what I've done,
and leave this as a throw-away?
Cut and run, then count my losses,
but "me" tells me to stay --
Perhaps just one more stanza now
will save this from the trash;
from being a coaster for drinks,
or burned, reduced to ash.
Listen then, dear readers, to this
final quatrain written;
no poem is ever mindless,
as long as there's a kitten.
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