Sitting in the interior light,
Wondering what is right,
Trying for something good to write,
Boredom is certainly the bane of night…
Mind filled with a fire unknown,
Taken from a time when hardly grown,
Into the collar of a coat boredom is sewn,
To always be present but never shown…
If this you do understand,
Then explain it to me,
Nothing have I written here planned,
No thought in my head is ever grand…
GOD BLESS YOU
Tony
Anna
fee
Ron
Newfie Hugs, Rose
Of course I understand this, and I imagine that you do also. Great two lines above, man.