A/N: Another poem about boredom. Written in like a minute so don't expect
much.
Uninspired
Weary now of the circular noose
Chain-link lettered teeth
Clamping round my neck.
Would I spend forever
Pirouetting from the ceiling
Waiting for the stroke
Of inspiration to sever my head
And rend this cycle to pieces?
Can a circle become a line?
Or does it flow endlessly
Into itself.
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