Poetry definitely isn't my strong point, but since I'm bored, I figured I'd give it a shot. This is something I've written off the top of my head just to have something to do and something to post
Boredom
It sits on me like that thick comforter on my bed at home
My eyes cloud over and
I lean my elbow against the desk longing to go to sleep
Boredom
It makes my thoughts move in slow motion like gook
I watch as they inch across the tapestry that is my mind
Worming through the holes that schoolwork has left behind
Boredom
I look out the window, and think:
Wouldn't it be nice to have something to do
Besides sitting here alone with my half-formed thoughts
Staring at the lit pane of plastiglass sitting before me
Waiting, waiting, waiting . . . for the boredom to pass