boredom , o boredom.
how do I hate thee,
for days and days,
I suffer your contagious disease.
I hate those long nights of tossing and turning,
those boringly dull dreams.
to those nights back when I slept with ease.
Boredom, o boredom.
so much things to do, but they are all boring.
all I can do is nothing.
I compare thee to nothing but time and space.
and I can't think of anything else so I'll end right there. mrgreen
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