Bleak Sun Poem by Aram Stefanian

The daily routine bores the pants off me,
I feel like the guy in The Groundhog Day.
The smell of boredom is turning my tummy.
If it doesn't change, there'll be hell to pay.
I wait until I'm told where to get off.
Guess, I'm gonna kiss the future goodbye.
I'm stuck in the present and feel like a goof,
Baffled to give an answer to another why.
I can still tell everybody's fortune,
Yet there's nobody around to tell me mine.
I'm not even sorry I'll miss my option
If abruptly the bleak sun refuses to shine.