Wastage?

For the sake of the dust on the cover of the old book,
For the love of the person you crave,
Among the river and the shore,
Near the willow and the valley;
I ask you the same.
Are you not wasting your life over this?
Crying over the same person again.
Willing to sacrifice one thing for another. Willing to leave it all.
Aren't you all bored? Aren't you all broken? Aren't you all just tired?
Or is it me alone?
Aren't you all afraid ? Aren't you all selfish? Aren't you all crazily in love with someone you can never have.
Isn't this all indicative of the life we're wasting?
Aren't we all spectacular? Aren't we all too stupid to know that there is no life without it's  wastage?