Poem Without Plot

I wrote these lines without any plot
And can’t say what this is, only what it’s not

This isn’t an ode to the ‘beauty’ of ‘true love’
Nor one in praise of ‘powers above’

This isn’t a tale of maidens fair
With oversized towers and bleached blonde hair

War, peace, and all the rest you won’t find here
You’ll have to look elsewhere for those, my dear

Beyond mere babble, what lies within?
Nothing at all, neither virtue nor sin

Its lack of content I won’t obscure
Of that, my friend, you may be sure

This does, however, have an annoying rhyme
Which you can attribute to an excess of free time

Meter and thought, must they be done?
Not at all, these lines ain’t got none

Yeah, that was pretty crappy, I know
But I’m just playing for space…ho ho?

Ah, yes, ’tis truly a curse,
To be able to think in nought but verse

Such are the effects of Geography class
When mixed with a mind most vulgar and crass

Okay, I’ve run out of things to say
But I’ve got stuff to do anyway

So here I go, off I trot
Thus comes to an end, my poem without a plot