All about me

Its all about me , isn’t it? 

I do the thinking, 

all of it, 

I do the feeling, 

all of it. 

Don’t I?

Wherever 

I am 

it is me.

I think of doing that 

or this, 

it’s me all the time. 

It is me. 

Isn’t it. 

Me, me, meeeee!

Ever tire of it?

Do I?

 Should I? 

If it wasn’t me, 

who would it be? 

What would it be? 

What could it be?

It’s boredom, 

idiot. 

Plain old BOREDOM