A/N: Another poem about boredom. Written in like a minute so don't expect

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.