Boredom

I am so bored.
I die inside.
I live for a fleeting moment.
I lived yesterday.
Oh, the yesteryears of my youth.
The childhood beckoning my return.
The idle masks of summertime gala.
I die a little,
Just a wee bit.
As boredom consumes me.
The endless melancholy of life.
Void absent present tender truth flawed reticence of the youth.