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