Boredom

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.