By: Sydney Xiong

Earbuds in, playing a soft buzz,

Life’s not as busy as it was.

Mid-summer heat, blocked out by AC

Nothing to do, foggy brain in a fuzz

Flip open a book,

Take a yawn and take a look,

Eyes on the words, but mind elsewhere

The nature of boredom is something I mistook

They say “time flies”, but it’s trudging

Each hand moving forward, as if it was grudging,

Mind empty, midsummer boredom,

Almost as if I’m wishing school would come by, rushing.