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by SST
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1312765
A poem about the clock moving a bit too slow.
The clock ticks
Too slowly for reality
Time can not be this slow.
My mind winds down
Boredom sets in
And my leg starts to tap.
I pick up a book
But its already been read
The TV shows me nothing
To interest my head.
The rain keeps me in
No escape outdoors
Instead I'm trapped
And ever so bored.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1312765-Boredom