Ode to Boredom
Written by none other than none of your business
*ahem* (That, by the way, has nothing to do with the actual poem but is a gesture stating that you are about to speak. Please ignore it along with this note.)
The tale which I'm about to speak
Once it reaches to it's peak
You will know it's nothing more
Than a long and dreadful bore
Oh, ye boredom, ye are tasteless
Like a bowl of oatmeal pasteless
(that, by the way, is not word
but please pretend it was not heard)
Boredom, when ye come again
We are praying for the end
Of this long and dreadful bore
Praying it will come no more
Ye make us tired of doing nothing
Yet we have not strength nor stuffing
So we sit and lay around
Boredom beating us to the ground
What oh WHAT IS THERE TO DO?!?!
Nothing. So we sit and stew.
The end. Based on a true story.
