Development Boredom

This seems so far away from myself So removed from the lackless times When blood gushed, feral and clean And nothing divided divine from obscene This seems so distant from sincere ways And sinless taste of liquid, ruby days When sleep was a needless break And not a cure to a splitting headache I don't know From where does the dawn bleed I don't know From where do the doubts creep Will this unfinished poem Ever succeed? Will this unfinished smile Ever complete? Now all that is left Are sterile words and A longing for the secret garden Which every child remembers Now all that remains Is a tired heart and A yearning for the long lost Arden Which only a broken can enter It takes so long to be young again It takes so long to be young again It takes so long to be young again It takes so long to be young again