POEM STARTER
Compose a poem about the lost art of boredom.
Are we missing out on the beauty of being bored?
Boredom? Silence? What’s That?
I don’t get bored anymore.
Although sometimes I wish I did.
Now my mind is always filled
Racing,
Spiraling,
Chasing intrusive thoughts that I know I’ll never act on.
I overthink everything,
Replay anything,
There’s always something going on in there.
I wonder why…
My mind is never silent
I space out, zone out,
Running circles around an audio stuck in my head
Every thought wrapped around that one lyric line that comes from a song I don’t know any other words to.
It’ll drive me crazy until I can figure out the song name.
Silence.
What’s that?
The thing where there’s no noise in your head, just emptiness all around you,
You actually have space to think thoughts you want to think?
You can actually do the stuff you want to do?
I can’t even imagine what that’s like.
I take the lowest dosage of an ADD medication in the morning.
I have to shower before 10 or I’m showering after 12.
The pill wears off before I can find it in me to get up, off this chair, out of this warm room, to go take 30 mins to shower & get back downstairs. 40. 50. An hour. I’m in bed by 2am
I wish I could get up when I want, do what I want & get everything done.
Instead, I’m stuck.
My brain won’t work.
Everything sits where it is
There’s no silence in my head, just drowsiness & static when I’m not entertained.
I don’t get bored.