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Nothing to write, nothing to listen Oh! I don't know what happen It was going smoothly fine Suddenly, feeled just ashamed How it feels to be the crush To the heart, a easy cruel rush
Everyday, every minute, every second I feel like I am worthless Whatever I do is never good I feel like I am alone With no friends
i don't like the alchohol  it messes with my head  instead i'll chat with demons that reside under my bed  the demons know my pain because they cause it every day 
Staring off into space, Lost in thought, Exploring a more interesting reality.    Its nothing personal,  I just prefer my own world to this one. 
Shackled, lady creativity sits on the floor And stares agaze outside her pane-less window Watching the world go As she's high up in the trees Dreaming about what could have been Fingers loose and rocking
meet Mr blob he has no eyes no nose or ears. he plops along with a slish and a slosh. he never stops to take a breath or take a rest. he has no where to go  or is he already there? he can be stoped 
Education   Boredom slowly creeps upon me, Like a fog on top a hill. My eyes start glazing over,
My thoughts are unique I am the one in control Yet they are not safe
I'm not much of a creative writer. I'm not a genius, and I'm not a fighter. Just an average student on break going day by day, Missing the plentiful dining hall buffet. I sleep all day like a newborn baby,
Nothing, so blank and pure Nothing, makes me endure Nothing, makes everything empty Like an evil force And I follow its course
I hate being bored, It’s just so boring. Do you know what I mean? Doubt it, Let me show you.   You’re sick of games,
Reality, my bane; mundanity, my employer. If I could sell boredom, life would be livelier.   Fantasy, my dream; my imaginings, my world.
My mind is blank, My thoughts won't flow. I'm a bit bored,  So I look out the window. I begin a new book, It reminds me of you. If you ask me why,  I'll have no clue.
I'm not pregnant I don't smoke I couldn't recognize the smell of weed even if I tried My shorts adaquately cover my ass But what's so surprising Is that everything I've succeed at not being
I've been staring at the ceiling, it is off white, and bumpy, and very, very boring.  sometimes it is so lonely your chest feels like its made of glass,  
With summer here I don't see any progress All the things I said I would do,  All the lies I told my self. I'll be more productive -  and get what needs to be done, done I'll put my needs into focus and my 
  The lesson sounds like one long "ohm",
Oh squiggly line in my eye, Why can't I see you, why are you so shy? Oh squiggly line in my eye, You always tend to leave to 'walk right by'.   Oh squiggly line in my eye,
The sun The earth 
daydreaming about my what ifs, its one of my main highs. what if i jumped off a cliff, and i could fly. no time to die. it less boring in my mine, always aloud to dine and shine. the time is always right, let me glide through time.
Sitting at my desk trying to get some howework done. All I can do is to look out the window,  I wish I was outside in the sun.
why are all these girls actin rachet,back in the day we were actin classy,but know its all about who got the biggest ass,you know .......... i liked the people in the past
As I sit in class the day going by so slowthe enviroment outside has a strange glowthe dull rumbling streatches across the room
Don’t mind me I’m really ok I just don’t want to be awake All I ever do is make mistakes Don’t find me I’m running away I just don’t want to be Someone like me
  Tired of winters And swollen rivers Chests heaving People leaving                 Want to sleep Maybe for weeks             Need to sleep Maybe for weeks
I'm sick of the struggle.The uphill battle I constantly face.The decision on whether or not to stayor leave from this place.This poem won't even express it.
Without love what is life
Listening to your Whopper of a lessonCopying notes from the King
Automatic voice Teacher talks despite herself Even she is bored   Someone’s head bobs back and forth As if to keep conscious   I feel myself fade I feel myself disappear
Clock ticking            Time slipping A droning sound A droning sound A droning sound Fallen heads With drooping ears Drooling lips Snoring noses.   A class about myths
Lost in love, I don't want to be found, Dear God I have never seen  an angle this close to the ground. Being lost in love is such a strange feeling, not being found just sounds so appealing.
*Guitar Strums*Hola, mi Profesor tu enseñas es muy maloI come in every morning with a smile, and a buenos dias,But you rush in with your papeles and your maletín onto the floor,No mas! No more...
e-town state of mind jus tryn find molly or maybe party like Chris Farley smoke like Bob Marley hella gnarly radical dude got an attitude i aint tryna b rude  but u need to open yo eyes 
Your phone is so old, so last year, not cool anymore. That dress you are wearing is so last season. You haven't post anything on Facebook yet. The video you tweeted is so old I already seen it, not funny anymore.
I’m so bored, Have nothing to do. I’ve been staring at walls Like a wicked shrew. I think and think,
The INSOLENT hands of the clock are shadily employed by boredom itself Each tick is a moment spent examining the air each tock is the scream of a perishing elf Dormant, idle, indolent, motionless
We're just watching time pass  Sitting around Being clowns Playing with the rules When we're all bound To do great So why wait? Why sit around & contemplate on our already planned-out fate?
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