The Blues (The Blues Part II)


The Blues


College was fun,

Dropping out over was even more.

Freeing oneself from routine felt the greatest,

And then the idea lost its allure and turned into

The Blues.


Looking around and seeing no one was the hint.

Looking up and seeing friends

Flying away to the clouds, the realizing slap,

Submersed in the daily work week hardened reality,

Time always tired and routine fed the embers of

The Blues.


Growing older, the bones cracked and popped,

Teeth dropped out, cheeks aged to knotty wood,

The child inside died

A leather man of cancerous things,

And then you could blame it on

The Blues.


You did not understand that person,

Until that day that defines us,

When sadness, distance, and grievance,

Taught you how to play

The Blues.


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