Boring lectures have induced me to writing poems. Here is the work of such 2 boring lectures:

Its a long & winding road,
Difficult to keep your own horde;
What is it that we seek,
Sunlit land's golden breeze;
Piling upon careless breaths,
Although end is only in wreaths.

Treading upon paths where millenia have trod;
Sometimes dark, sometimes daylight broad.
Does it matter at all?
Whether you win or fall.
When all you see and all you feel.
Comes to naught when you finally kneel!