Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Boredom

The ocean is still
No waves meet the shore

Too much time to kill
And mind yearns for more

For a climb uphill
And see what's in store

But the search makes me ill
And sick of rowing an unguided oar

Let me take a pill
Go to slumber and snore

On soft and light quills
And forget all that bores.

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