Boring Job Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Boring Job
Sitting atop a downtown building, taking a break
from a boring job.
Hoping to wake a little from this business sleep,
as the hours have droned on.
Calmly scanning the horizon, looking for something
to catch my eye so I may write about it.
All things and buildings continue to sit immobile,
not caring one iota if anyone can't see through or
write about them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 7:18:24 AM # 1.0.0.1119
