Boredom

Boredom

The turmoil that squirms from within

Continuously egging you on to do something

To deal with this quagmire of unproductivity.

In your mind

It mirrors the many ways of solutions

Like a maze

With many temptations potential moves you can make

Yet there is this vexatious doubt that bugs you like a fly

About the probability of success of it.

So in the end

I’m sitting right here in my couch

Entrapped within my own puzzle of indecisiveness

As I watch the hours pass by.

Idleness, I finally admit.

Because of my strict principle of using time to the fullest

Peppered with a tinge of my perfectionist nature

I result in nothingness.

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2 thoughts on “Boredom

  1. I really like this poem. You use plain-clothes language to describe in detail the sensation of trying, and failing, to create something that lives up to your own high standards, and it’s a sensation I think anyone involved in creative art can relate to. “As I watch the hours pass by / Idleness, I finally admit” – is my favorite line, because of how simple it is, and yet how intense, and communicative. Keep it up, and keep writing!

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