These are but vain attempts to express, by one who wears her heart on her sleeve. Words, much like love, can be ever elusive... ever frustrating... like trying to paint a million stories on a single canvass. If you will read, please do not ask. Just feel. Or at least try to. The meaning is, whatever you have felt to be there, or the lack thereof :)

The epitome of boredom (MainLib blues)

Watching the clock
Checking if its time
To get out of this stupor
While searching for a rhyme

It’s pathetic, it’s cruel
The way I sit and endure
This seemingly self-inflicted punishment
It really is pure torture

3rd July 2001  (DMLF)

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