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