The Coitus of Passions and Fears

Poetry is pretentious
Which is why I enjoy the indulgence
My ego feasting
It's cute to watch him
Stuffed silly
Inebriated thoroughly
Just to waddle through the fog
Thick and rich with self loathing
He hums a tune
Hitting high notes desperately
Like a child reaching for the cookie jar
When the child breaks his tippy toes
And the jar laughs back
The Cheshire Cat
And this relates
To the day I take my stand
And the fear
Of rejection