Boredom is Lost, Lost is Bored

 

Image credit: Lost and Waiting by CratXandra


Lost lays gracefully in the woods,

Staring an everlasting gaze,

Towards an endless mass of time and space.

Concern begins to grow from the depths of his mind,

As he waits for his next victim,

Somewhere out there, beyond the horizon…


Boredom sits silently in a cabin,

Oh so demure, staring at the blank wall.

A nonchalant way to channel his inner demons,

As he counts the teardrops falling from the sky,

He begins to wonder… 

“Are those teardrops mine?”


But they have been forgotten,

Being always frustrating to be with,

Robbing people of their innocence,

They were casted out with hatred,

Replacing them with the guidance of windowed cages.


Their hands are empty,

Nothing to do, nothing to hold,

Save the cigarette slit between their fingers,

Moving from lip to hip, and hip to lip, 

Lighting inquisition within their mind.

As they fidget their death stick, they continue to stare,

Wondering what lies beyond the windowed cage,

Where people share their uncensored thoughts in the virtual arena.


Little did people realise, 

With their constant abuse of easy getting drugs,

It was Lost that gave them the gift of wonder,

To enter hallways they’ve never wandered in,

Fulfilling the vagabond they have stored deep within.

And it was boredom that gave them the gift of dreams,

To enter realms they never thought possible,

Fulfilling the beauty that makes them human.


Written by: Putera Ashraf

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