Mr Blue
He's not proud that it came to this.
He's very aware that something's amiss.
He never chose to be lonely and selfish;
Or dreamed of not having a want nor wish.
A well-mannered man, meek and mild,
Mr. Blue always greets with a smile.
But he's sad, sorry, and blue.
He has no sisters or brothers
And no room for others;
Neither for me nor even you.
He lives in a cave,
Far from roads paved.
He lives of the land and
Digs for gold with a pick and a pan.
He feels secure with a gun in his hand.
And doesn't care whether others understand.
He only knows it feels like sinking in quicksand,
Since his dear wife died suddenly some 20 ago.
He often broods in the cave pacing to and fro.
He keeps busy most of the time with this, that,
or the other and occasional sips of whiskey and wine.
At other times, he cries, as the world passes him by.
052121PS
Copyright © Curtis Johnson | Year Posted 2021
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