The Virtues of Dull

Writing for the sake of it, waiting for my Muse to arrive
For all the world I can't seem to break through to myself
Lost, not sure about forever, the face in the mirror is the same
But the rest of me refuses to speak
When rising and falling feel the same
It no longer matters where you stand
And though I'm not there yet
What separates dawn and dusk seems to be fading

Feelings pass me by, neither acknowledged or ignored
I know they are real, I know they have a reason
But I simply stare blankly, awaiting their departure
Activity, fun for all, love and hate; meat eating meat
I am null and void, somewhat off centre
Too bored to raise a smile, too bland to be depressed
Runarounds, tearaway, burning up in style
I'll sit here for a while, stoking hidden sparks