Things don't seem worth as much as
they once seemed.

I'm getting old and fat and tired.

Again.

Things don't seem exciting as much as
I once dreamed.

I'm getting complacent and
excusable and

Bred.

I always thought that
this is how my youth would catch me, off

guard and insecure.

I always thought that this
would break me and nowadays I'm
pretty sure that

like my ideologies I've become
inevitable and seeping wounds

born from a belief
this world should be better
but better off with

out than within.

Again.

I'm sorry.

You've been disappointed like Nero
playing your song as we burn but

no regrets
no tomorrow
we'll happen soon

Again, so

Goodbye again.

If depressing was what you were going for I'd say you did a very good job.

I was trying to capture that thick, almost looming feel of boredom that comes from not having anything that stimulates your mind and the throes that come with it.