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10-02-2009 at 09:29:30 AM
  • poetography
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bored

bored


she made her pleasure
become her treasure
and greeted the day with wonder
grabbed hold of it like thunder
sought out ways for excitement
steered a course towards enlightenment
every day a little further from comfort zone
to unimagined worlds she began to roam
reading , writing and travel
her boredom began to unravel

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Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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