The Ideal Taunt

Obsessed with nothing

Stumbling endlessly on a loop

Feelings are numbing

Unable to find a troop

Eyes travel with nowhere to land

Heart stays out of it, indifferent to plans

Feet remain fixed, awaiting command

A better version of me

That knows what he wants

The ideal me

A vision that haunts

Alone on the sea

Adrift,

as a dilettante