Stephen Cahill Furlong (23 August 1992 / Holles Street, Dublin, Republic of Ireland)
I was bored one day, had nothing to do.
The only thing I could do
Was one big poo.
I was lying on my bed as lazy as a pig.
All I could give my girlfriend
Was one big dig.
I was daydreaming about the time
My Uncle Billy was shot dead.
Oh how I wish that bullet full of lead
Hit me instead.
A few days later, I found myself sitting there,
Bored in school, writing this poem.
If only, if only
I wrote this poem at home.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Boredom by Stephen Cahill Furlong )
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