MANIC BOREDOM

MANIC BOREDOM
Sitting here alone, by myself in the darkest of night,
I long for you, in a memory unspoken.
All I hold near is the thought of you.
Your voice echoes through my mind,
Haunting my soul with a whisper.

My flesh is an empty shell restraining the wings of the spirit,
You say you don’t care to hear it.
My thoughts become twisted sitting here in loneliness,
Rocking myself to sleep with a lullaby.
Succumb to the sheer boredom,
Suffer through another night of stardom,

I have the world at my beckon,
But I sit here in my own prison.
Dreams become erratic,
Thoughts turning manic,
Caged in boredom, I become frantic.
COPYRIGHT 2006 MATT THOMPSON