18 of 200

by Sid de Knees

Boredom.

I tend to strike on rainy days,
or when no body's there.
I find you when you least expect,
I have no thought to share.
I have no joy for you at all,
nor have a thing to give.
I want you just existing,
not great-ful that you live.

I leave you feeling overdosed,
on everything you do.
Nothing ever satisfies,
I grow, exhausting you.
I'm warm and fuzzy when you're bored,
it really floats my boat.
To know that you are struggling,
to keep your day afloat.

I'm not a demon or a ghost,
just a state of mind.
Depression is a friend of mine,
we're closely intertwined.
Heartless to the suffering,
I have no thoughts to share.
I tend to strike on rainy days,
or when no body's there.

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Poetry: Boredom

by Sid de Knees

Poetry: Boredom

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