I Was Blue

I was blue, and bruised,

As I furrowed my brow—

And imagined being

A pensive old fool.

I was tongue-tied,

And taught to say hullo

As I thought of other

Happy tidings too.  

I was preened to pry

Into the plastic wrapping,

Which was coveting

The most perfect prize.

But I fell and faltered,

As I tumbled fervently

Forever into the gaze,

I wished to forge.

I was sick and sad,

Heart-struck and sighted

Searching for a feeling

That was status stricken.

I was blue, and bruised,

As I furrowed my brow—

I was bitter and bitten,

By a gloomy sort of meaning.  

    DannYetman

www.DanielYetman.com