To The Remarkably Unremarkable Ones... Poem by Aimee Fyfe

Apple of my eye,
How d'ya like your pie?
Crumbled like the rest,
Under your oh-so-clever jests?
You're a trapped balloon.
You're a blacked-out moon.
Yeah, I wanted you to be,
Something different to me.
But you only disappoint,
One rusted-up joint.
Giving sacred sanction,
Making limbo blossom.
Talk your blue-streak blues,
In height-boosting shoes,
‘Bout red letter days,
To distract from your age.
Keep your wallet on the table,
And any truth up on a shelf.
I'm never gonna get you,
To stop you fooling yourself.