A Whole Mess of Nothing

By
Boredom has reached a record high,
As nostalgia kicks in.
The thought of killing someone
Something
Is horrendous, yet so filling.
You can say you’re nonviolent,
But then you would be a liar
A hypocrite
Just like myself.
Just like the other
5 million or so,
Living in boredom.
When it creeps in, it stays there
Won’t leave you alone.
It wants to die in you,
Wants to extend its filth

When you’re bored,
Your mind starts to wander
You can’t stay focused
On one thing, even with
Little to no topics,
To stay focused on anyways.
You start cursing random things
Your large feet,
An airplane that flew over your
Apartment five minutes before hand,
The sandwich you are currently eating.
Anything that can be yelled at
Can and will
Be a victim.
You yell
And scream
And yell
And scream,
Some more, until it is no longer
Amusing
And then you are back at the start
Staring at the floor.





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????? said...
Dec. 12, 2008 at 3:58 pm
i really like how you wrote this. good
 
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