The train rushes past // a curtain of trees,
A house appears, then vanishes in seconds.
Clouds drift overhead, // laden with boredom,
Their shapes refuse to shift or bend.

Once he basked where sunlight flooded valleys,
Now that light can't // find its way to me,
For he waits, wrapped in his boredom,
Becoming just another cloud,
Listless and free.

I sway forward, body in motion,
Backpack slung across my shoulders,
Looking up with empty eyes // at those same dull clouds,
No matter time or distance traveled,
Their form remains unchanged.

They become the words I lazily compose,
Words perhaps no one will ever know,
Only in those hollow moments,
Might they be read, remembered,
Like nameless clouds drifting above,
Unknown to anyone below,
Existing or not, steeped in boredom.
I'm not a bird, nor am I fish,
Can't yearn for what nature provides,
Just lingering, bored and restless,
Dwelling in the mind where boredom thrives,
You too are just // a cloud where emptiness survives.

I'm merely someone on a tedious train,
A passenger beneath the weight // of boredom's reign,
With dreams as lifeless // as the stagnant air,
And clouds that drift above // without a care.

Might you who read these words // with a heavy sigh
Become someone whose spirit learns to fly?
Be that soul whose interest never wanes,
Who finds in boredom's // verse what joy remains.

Indeed, boredom.
And clouds that never change.