I have to know, I need to find, 

What’s that boredom in my mind? 

Is it a pain, a simple hurt? 

Or suffering, a filthy dirt?

 

Like anger clean, without the blame, 

A passing fire, a fleeting flame?

A child can feel it and be free, 

Is boredom made that way for me?

 

It seems to be a simple nudge, 

Something I should not begrudge. 

If I resist and don't accept, 

That surely is a bad misstep.

 

A baby stares at one blank wall, 

And doesn't like that view at all. 

Its eyes will search and start to roam, 

To find a more engaging home.

​

That boredom is a hungry guide, 

With curiosity inside. 

It moves me from that empty place, 

To join a more exciting race.

 

It seems to be a simple nudge, 

Something I should not begrudge. 

If I resist and don't accept, 

That surely is a bad misstep.