Sitting in a classroom with nothing to do
What am I doing? Haven’t got a clue
All work and no play, where’s the fun in that
I think I’d rather be hit with a baseball bat
Stuck in a class discussion with nothing to say
I need something to write to keep the boredom at bay
Feeble words fly in one ear and out the other
Whilst useless tasks try desperately to smother
Children sit wailing petty insults
On what planet is this going to get results?
Teacher is threatening students with detentions
And I sit, slipping into a new dimension

I stare out of my window at the midnight street:
Desperate lovers roam back alleys, hoping one day they’ll meet.
Creeping shadows cast from dimming street lamps haunt the pathways;
Yawning teens sit awake typing up long overdue essays;
The dreams of the unsuccessful hang in the sky with the stars;
Drunken mugs trip over their own feet outside the city bars
A lone tree stands to attention in the middle of a frost bitten field
Fear ridden walkers use recycling bins and garden walls as shields

Workaholics typing themselves into oblivion
Athletes run laps hoping to become an Olympian
Stray cats and the heart wrenching cries of the homeless haunt the alleys
Holiday goers walk by torchlight through hundred year old valleys
Hopeful wannabes sing their shoulda coulda wouldas by the crack in the kerb
Whilst I sit… staring at the wall thinking of a perfect verb

Frustrated because I can't tell if it's real
Mad because I don't know how you feel
Upset because we can't make it right
Sad because I need you day and night
Angry because you won't take my hand
Aggravated because you don't understand
Despondent because there’s no hope for us
Vulnerable because I feel like a complete and utter wuss
Lugubrious because I feel so very alone
Scared because there are no more stepping stones
Afraid because I’ve reached the end of my tether
Disappointed because we can't be together

So many words, so many possibilities
So many verbs, such a strain on my ability
There are the rhyming couplets and metaphors
Not forgetting adjectives and similes, eugh such a bore!
Why won’t my pen just do as it’s told?
A decent piece of work is all I wish to mould
I need some help; I think I'm going insane
Why can’t I find a word that isn't so mundane?
I’ll count to one hundred and then have another go
But what if I end up with nothing to show?
I need to get words to paper, double speed
I could always pretend I'm ill, they’ll pay no heed
Need to think of something quick, before time runs out
If I hand in a blank page, I'm certain teacher will shout
Better do something fast, better think of something quick
I'm being glared at; I think I'm going to be sick
My work is being marked; I hope it’s not too frugal
Great mark! A- , thank god for Google…

I feel like a tightrope walker without a net
I feel like a gambler who just lost a bet
I feel like a miner trapped in a cave
I feel like a gamer who forgot to save
I feel like a baker who ran out of eggs
I feel like a runner who’s broken both legs
I feel like a tree with no room to grow
I feel like an artist with nothing to show
I feel like a writer who’s out of ideas
I feel like a child with multiple fears
I feel… confused
I feel… pain
I feel… abused
I feel… insane
I feel…  I feel… everything

I can’t write poetry so I have given up trying
The perfectionist in me is frustrated and crying
It stresses me out to the brink of explosion
It feels to me like an incomplete notion
I don’t understand it, it doesn’t make sense
I don’t know why it’s not a criminal offence
The rhymes are tacky and the meanings follow suit
It feels like free falling with no parachute
It’s boring to write and boring to read
I just see it as one big misdeed
For me, the art of poetry is just one big mess
And I can’t be bothered with it:  it’s not worth the stress

Roaring thunder; crackling lightning
Squirming under blankets, it’s so frightening
Howling wolves; hooting owls
Nightmares prowling, sounds so foul
Shadows lurking; monsters growling
I bet they’re smirking, I hear howling…
Homework’s due; my bed’s too hot
I’m feeling blue, must find a cool spot
The TV’s too loud; sister’s snoring
I hope mum’s proud, this is getting boring
Ideas are swimming and I’ve got no paper
No one’s listening, there’s no problem greater