I cannot think of anything to write
My brain has melted,
My legs are jello
What am I doing here?
I
Am
Bored.
Bored as someone stranded on an island.
Bored as someone in keyboarding.
Bored
Bored
Bored.
The look of boredom,
A faraway look in my eye.
Daydreaming as if it were night.
The smell of boredom,
Someone sitting there,
There’s nothing to smell.
The feel,
Of a bored person,
Is as cold as death,
Or as warm as summer.
To hear,
A bored person,
Is to hear silence,
Or the occasional groan.
To taste,
Now that’s just gross.
Please don’t taste a bored person.
Ask their dog,
How they taste.
Now writing this poem,
Is not so boring
It is actually almost fun.
I’m not too bored anymore.
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