I can keep at this till Armageddon

We were given an assignment (by our teacher Alexandra Leggat) to pick a daily routine, observe it and write it into a poem. For a few days, I would open my notebook and think of capturing that one routine that I want to share. I thought that if I chose one routine, that one routine would cage me; so, I was unable to pick a routine for the assignment. Though, I would start writing about how I don't know what to write about, as this is how writers begin writing, right? And then it hit me. This is my daily routine, trying to come up with something.

The result is as follows:

I can keep at this till Armageddon

I am not sure what to write about.
May be write about my morning routine
or that philosophical topic I am thinkin’.

I am too worried,
worried that I don't have anything worth sharing,
or even enough to fulfill this assignment's bidding.

Regardless, I just started to write something,
so that I can get the noise out,
and get past it.

But I don't hear anything,
it's too quiet over my mast,
so not sure what I am trying to get past.

I don't know why I am writing this,
when I don't want to.
Why should I continue?

Perhaps because, THIS is my assignment.
Let Alexandra deal with it,
let my classmates have a laugh at this piece of sheet.

In fact, I will do just that.
So, there; this is my blabbering.
You just indulged into nothing.

Or is it really nothing?
That was 151 words, 155 now, 157.
Hah! I can keep at this till Armageddon.