Boxes,scribbling and scrawling
The tables covered with books and hauling
I see that book series I've read before
I remember that quote, it was okay romantic
Feel like becoming a young prodigy
I have a wall and yet no deeds
I don't think I'll ever unpack
It'll be just left stacked
I built a castle out of chocbar boxes
like my thoughts are fully doxes
Clean socks, I miss them
Right now, I don't have though in my room
Don't worry
I feel kinda thoughtlessly free
A hundred different ways to say how I feel
Language is so limited, isn't it?
Why do some books feel so dusty with no dust
But, not one of them will ever be enough real
I know it's not great
But it was great when I wrote it.
YOU ARE READING
Boredom
PoetryDo you ever feel like you have the capacity to notice but its too much to actually do it? Like to observe and analyse takes too much mental toll
