The Blues
Helpless heartless
Show me where the start is
Selfish Artless
Show me where my harp is
The blues are sung
And being sung
They take upon
A sacred hum
The cards are played
And being played
They bring along
No daily aid
Helpless heartless
Show me where the start is
Selfish Artless
Show me where my harp is
The weather dies
And having died
It takes upon
No sense of pride
The day is done
And being done
It lives on with
The final drum
Helpless heartless
Show me where the start is
Selfish Artless
Show me where my harp is
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
