Bored To Tears Poem by Andrew Jacobson

I've sunk into a rut.
Tried writing, tried reading, tried running, tried sleeping.
Whatever I do, I get bored.
My Mom tells me this story of one summer day when I was a little,
I cried on the couch because I was bored.
Bored to tears, she said, that's where the phrase comes from.
Be more curious, she told me, there's so much to learn.
So much to know.
But now that I know things, I still get bored.
I know there's more to know.
But knowing no longer interests me, feeling does.
Am I bored from feeling?
One could say that.
After all, feelings aren't limitless like knowledge.
There're numbered.
We learn them all in Kindergarten by naming different faces.
And then we live them, the same feelings, for the rest of our lives.