On Boredom

I have something I wish to say
A thing of import you ask? Nay
Just a string of random nothings
And a whole lot of incoherent mutterings

Oh the idle mind is just lazy
Slow , leisured and too hazy
Almost as if in a drowsy stupor
I dream dreams that will never be more

A heartfelt yawn is mimicked and felt
It’s  an inferno that catches and spreads
And like the glowing embers of a dying fire
The fight drains out of me and I tire

Boredom is a terminal affliction
It maims , murders and courts damnation
And I am swept away with this lethal tide
Of sloth, sleep and hours of non-enterprise.

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3 thoughts on “On Boredom

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  1. I love how you’ve put your thoughts together – wonderful poem! The sentiments really resonate with me: when they children were growing up, there weren’t many things they weren’t allowed to do; one of the few they were not encouraged to say was:”I am bored!” If they did say it, we would respond by asking them to find a way of out of their state of being.

    Liked by 1 person

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