The Lamentation of a Laughing Matter

I am going to bend over and take this up with you,

I was very, very bad at sitting still---
you told me this to my back when I was busy moving about

If I told you that I never cared for your opinions all that much,
would you then tell me you longed for my thoughts on the matter?

If I questioned myself again,
about what was red and what was green,
would you accuse me of being color blind?

I am bored,
bored by thinking of everything we did not have memories of,
bored by nothing, I suppose---

If you owned up to understanding about grass and it being greener,
if you gave me and admission of sorts,
then maybe we could talk about the far side of the world

and we could call it a day
call this a day

and call it all a truce,
and then a farce---