It comes down to the fact that you supply the blue,
and they supply the other colors and mix them with your blue,
and maybe there’s some blue left in the painting
and maybe there isn’t.

How can I mix and play,
if black is turning my life gray.
If the blue you are telling is on my palette
please tell me, i can't barely see it.

Maybe there wasn’t supposed to be any there in the first place.
So have a little fun,
make a good blue
and walk away.

Now I can see some light in the dark,
hiding in the middle, protected by some bark.
The black I used to have is still with me,
consciously making me happier than my blue.

- Ms. Sarj Malanyaon & ™ДĜДLОПД

Labels: Heart Beat, Poetry