Blue - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

POEM 174: BLUE

He is standing before the mirror

gazing at his smiling face.

He's sad, in his heart a hollow,

but he has to win this race.

So he takes two steps backwards

spins around like a ballet dancer

and saunters away like a floating kite,

leaving behind in the mirror,

the sad portrait of him.

Taking along a mask he borrowed

from the colour of the sea...

It's blue...

sweet ocean drive.

It's b l u e,

that's how he choose to dive.

Cheering crowd and excited fans

waving, chanting his name.

He suddenly feels like he could fly;

wishes this feelings will remain

when he turns his back to the crowd

and recoil into his shell.

So he let a smile spread across his face

and whispers a quick pray'r.

He exhales and to raise his head

to where he derives stregnth...

It's blue...

right up the sky.

It's b l u e,

that's how he choose to fly.

His heart feels like a stone

could feel nothing but his heartbeat.

He stares again and with sobby tone

'mirror boy, look how I made it,

I need a golden throne,

and queen-lady beside it.

But who cares about a poor boy?'

He sighs, picks up his guitar blue;

It has a colour that always come true.

His fingers brews a sad symphony,

and with a sullen face he sings...

It's blue...

playing on my guitar.

It's b l u e,

I know I'll feel alright.

#365DaysOfPoetry

#Pengician

#SSA

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