There once was a man so very bored
His mind was dull, his thoughts were soared
He sat at his desk with pen in hand
Hoping to write a story grand

He stared at the blank page with a sigh
His mind was empty, his creativity dry
He thought of dragons, and kings and such
But the words just wouldn't come, not even a touch

He tried to write of love and woe
But his words were cliche and oh so slow
He tried to write of mystery and crime
But his plot was weak and the characters lacked chime

He decided to take a break and make a cup of tea
But as he sat there, he realized with glee
That his story was not meant to be serious
It was meant to be silly and filled with delirious

So he wrote of talking cats and flying pigs
And to his surprise, it was quite a hit
He laughed as he wrote, and the words flowed free
And he realized that boredom is just an opportunity