Boredom

Masturbating to pass the time

Squeezing out the last bit of dopamine

The highest peaks, yet a bitter end.

What to do next

A voice speaks every time

Wasting Life, Time.

No point.

Just the tip

Rub the tip.

Books?

No.

Games?

No.

Amusement is a waste of Life.

Work.

Yet laziness is the enemy

In a purgatory

Until priorities nudge us through Life

Living for the mundane

Performing the trivial

We are Ants in a bitter cycle

Miles Down in Middle Age

When wrinkles form and we look at our withering body

We Remember Youth

Skin taut, radiant

Not yet burdened with the weight of a Lifetime

A baby in morning dew

Cradled by the rays of the sun

Tickled and Teased by Sensations anew

Love, a color of melodies stroking our hearts.

Yet we are worn now,

bones aching,

eyes dimming.

We look to the past in dismay

And brood over our decisions

Is the life we chosen

A Life worth lived