The boredom poem

 

In this poem I tryed to make the poem go slow so you felt how bored I would have been.

The boredom of watching

Your brother play football.

Waiting for the high pitch whistle

to start the game.

Hoping i'll see a friend

walking around.

“Please can hockey to be

the same time”.

As the years go past

hockey is a different day.

slowly and slowly

waiting to go.

Sitting on the footballs

or leaning on mums shoulder

Dad on the field being the ref

wall jades on his back.

The wet grass

makes well a fresh smell

Begging mum for a hot chocolate

waiting for the horrid no.

As the years go past

the football get better and exciting.

Wounding why it was

so bad.

Sometimes I still die of boredom

but not as much as I did before.