A Detective’s Ennui

Braindead from boredom
I’m lead to distraction
Scratching the surface of life…

~*~

Boring. Boring. Boring.

Nothing at all stimulating.

My mind is highly intricate and addled with explosives

This stalling planet is too small to contain the universe veering in my sleeves

.

All I hear from my violin is endless screeching noises

And all silence ever does is draw out the pretentious inside voices

Sitting idly and wasting time on frenzied sharks biting my head

A cup of tea won’t even calm me down as I tediously fill the walls with lead

.

I need another case or two or three or four right now

Why are murderers so awfully slow like molasses somehow?

The dullness of reality makes my perfect system crash

And can’t even be fixed easily with a nicotine patch

.

Where’s the fun? Where’s the thrill?

The feeling of not feeling anything but excitement and chills?

The game is afoot, and the madness begins

And yet I’m still sitting here, jaded, forced to count my sins

.

Boring. Boring. So much weariness, it’s mocking

In this mediocre, mind-numbing planet I’m left staring, left uncaring

Dropped off somewhere in the middle, with a mind so impossibly quick

But all their shaded static eyes ever see is a man so terribly sick

.

Boring. So boring. Why does it have to be so arid?

Humans with their minds so barely-used, straightforward, and placid

Hanging my head back to the end of another lacklustre colourless day

Maybe tomorrow the criminals will finally come out to play.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Fandom Poetry, Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s