Your boredom could be of gentler hues
But even then again, could it?
You the shimmer of star light
On the ice floor of my soul
What could I have done to not
Be better to spike your attention
To me, only me, always me
Tis but a failing me trying
You the wonder
And as I wonder
I so miniscule before your towering
And I flinch
Seek my stupidity
And try to pretend to be grand
It will be enough, I know, I fear
For you shalt fare and find better
And when such a moment arrives
I shall be as worthless as dust
Flying off an old book shelf