Innate Inane Ennui

a poem

All those little glances

All those darting eyes

Don’t kid about our chances

Suppose no one sees

Our little lightning lies

Just drift along the breeze

With subtle stormy skies

How I just can’t stop looking

Spying with such ease

Your face simply hooking

My guilty aimless tease

A chance to play some cheers

These faulty shows I’m booking

More disposed to jeers

The apathy is cooking

Innate inane ennui

Repressing all my fears

Playing sanguine pageantry

Just petty smoke and mirrors

Just rippling underneath

That I could keep easy

This chattering in my teeth

That I might still flee

These circular circumstances

I’ll pray on false belief

For profitable perchances

For simple sweet relief

But hope is yet unwise