Untitled
You, my dear, are nothing special.
No more significant than the dust
On your unread books.
No more important than the stale
Ambition in your eyes,
Or the grey clouds in the sky.
As dull as an overused poolstick
And as worthless as a plastic toy;
Absolutely unnecessary.
You, dollface, are nothing extraordinary.
As plain as jane gets and as emtpy
As the bottle under your bed.
As irrelevant as an encyclopedia
From the mid 70s.
Full of inaccuracies and faults.
That's all this is really about,
Because at the end of the day
You mean about as much as
A Canadian coin in Mexico.