As I reference weak and cowardly
I think to myself, in the midst of the hour
My keyboard dusty, the air turning sour
On what to write about, as Christmas is near
Shall I give in to the holidays, or wait in fear?
I type with passion, this message to all
Right around the last moments of Fall
I type with wonder, this message to us
In the presence of stress, reviving our rust
I spit this with agony, exasperation controlling me like a puppet
As I ponder on when I shall reach the summit
I spit this with humor, over-dramatic and all
Even though in reality, my emotions still crawl
I ask myself why, why I am doing this
Maybe so I can soothe my audience with bliss
In the end though, you all knew why
Because of a creature titled Boredom, roaming the night sky.
