AnneNov20221

Boredom

I’m writing this boring poem

Because I’m bored

Asking myself silly questions

Trying to find catching words

To get rid of my boredom.

But they are all leading to nowhere

And my page is a blank

A vacuum, a white desert.

What did I do with my creative thoughts

My overflowing imagination

My vivid fantasy and the neverending uproar in my brain.

All gone !

What of metaphor, oxymoron, synecdoque, anaphora and hyperbole.

All gone !

Well, well now I’m really getting boring.

Time to stop. I don’t want to bore you.

Anne