This poem tells me about a life on the edge of an end that is not necessarily death. Talk about statism, lack of incentives. Hard reality allows the voice to speak from your heart, rather than from the mind. It focuses on the basic moves of life. Boredom is present as a means of life and life does not advance, there is an anchorage in the past. I perceive a kind of epitaph, but for the life that is lived.
Friend, good writing. Congratulations.