Boredom

Not knowing who I am,
Or who I shall be.
Isn’t that the road,
That gives me the most pleasure?

I actually want to know what I,
Myself can do against these roads.
I want to know what the roads are,
What the roads mean to me.

I actually want to know what I,
Myself am doing in my own eyes.
Is it stupid, is it boring, is it jealousy?

I actually want to know if it is true,
What I say about life.
Do I need to live my life,
Or is boredom just a figure of my fear,
To be able to live.

I wonder.

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