There’s a monster named boredom who everyone’s seen
that hides in the cracks between day-to-day things.
With undying patience he’ll sit and he’ll stay,
through all of our efforts to keep him at bay.
We construct great walls of things to do,
with hobbies as bricks and plans as glue.
From moment to moment we say he’s not there,
but cracks in the mortar reveal us his stare.
With all of our efforts we guard from the fear,
though few of us wonder just why is he there,
but the bravest among us will quietly pray
as she takes down the wall and invites him to play.
And what she finds is the biggest surprise,
that the voice of her heart is what dwells in his eyes,
for right in the center of all of our chests
lies a unique desire that will not rest.
And if we allow it to guide our steps
the touchstones of life are passion and depth,
and whether it growls or whether it’s sings
depends if it’s covered with day-to-day things.