Lampshade

Aggressively unimpressive in every single way,
But you take no notice and move on regardless
Of the impression you make.
You're a battering ram of mediocrity.
It's quite painful to watch, but I do
Out of boredom more than anything else.
It's quite the show, really,
Or at least that's what I assume.
At least the interest of the peanut gallery
Has been aroused.
Their heckling echoing all round you
Becoming the chorus for your made little play.
You smile and it's telling,
But you don't seem to mind
Or perhaps you're just unaware
And unbothered.
I doubt it really matters.
You aren't even here anymore.
You're a ghost of your true self, a mask
That smiles brightly as you play the fool.
I'd pity you if you didn't know, but you do
And for that I am thankful.
Honestly, I doubt I could have mustered the strength
To pity a whore, a beggar, an idiot
At the height of their power.