My mom would tell me of the old days

Back when my brother lived and breathed

She would speak of the times boredom attacked

And how he never let it keep him down

His teachers would out him in time out

Because he could not stay still in his seat

They would make him sit outside by himself

No toys or games or friends nearby

They forgot those were luxuries to him

He could fight the boredom off by himself

Dirt, bugs, grass and sticks became tools

His imagination used all of them for fun

That same imagination power is in me

Helping me feel close to him even now

He may be gone from the living world

But his cure for boredom will survive a while

Thank you mom for sharing stories

And for encouraging me to never stay bored

Thank you brother for being so creative

I hope you get to see my art from where you are