Why is it?
I am bored.
Why do I?
keep wishing for Friday to come.
It's Thursday morning,
so why am I?
wishing this day would end.
Shouldn't I?
I should,
use this day to the fullest,
But why don't I?
The feeling of boredom,
it still overwhelms me.
It's my first class of the day,
and here I am,
I'm still sitting with boredom,
but as I do,
I thought of a poem,
and this poem,
it sank into me,
it's not the smoothest poem,
but it tells my thoughts...
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 10:44 AM UTC
Why is it?
I am bored.
Why do I?
keep wishing for Friday to come.
It's Thursday morning,
so why am I?
wishing this day would end.
Shouldn't I?
I should,
use this day to the fullest,
But why don't I?
The feeling of boredom,
it still overwhelms me.
It's my first class of the day,
and here I am,
I'm still sitting with boredom,
but as I do,
I thought of a poem,
and this poem,
it sank into me,
it's not the smoothest poem,
but it tells my thoughts...
I wrote this poem having a little of a writer's block but still felt like writing. Sorry if it does not really flow too well.
Request permission to use this poem