On most days, the ability to write about absolutely anything is extremely freeing.
On days like today, the feeling is more along the lines of 'I can write about anything? How will I pick just one thing?'
Thus, today's starter: spoiled for choice.
I could write about this,
Or I could write about that;
My very first kiss,
Or my deep fear of bats;
The secret path to bliss,
Or noisy little brats;
I could pen a nasty diss,
Or tell you of my distaste for cats;
But now I've reached the end of this,
And I've written about none of that!