The blue,
It’s a burden,
This sad mantle,
Invisible to onlookers,
But a hazy azure to me,
It whispers in rain clouds,
Cats mewling and anguished moans,
The weight of ages,

I was liberated from strings,
A truimph over a despot,
Only to be given this cloak,
A bitter prize,
By my injured mind,
Cruel as it is,
The blue,
A scar cut with a heavy cerulean scalpel,

I’m barely able to walk,
To progress,
Each step is a marathon,
Up a million staircases,
Under stinging barbs of beryl,
It will never lift,
The blue,
Its tonnage is a part of me now,

The blue,
It’s a burden.

  1. abykittiwakewrites says:

    Well said. Beautiful.

  2. Wonderfully penned!❀️

  3. Lia says:

    We don the mantels that are thrown upon us, and/or we can also cast them off if we wish… :)) Thank you so much for your lovely support of my blog. Being a big muser on the theme of blue myself, this poem speaks to me. Love reading your thoughts. πŸ’™πŸ™πŸ’›πŸŒ€

    • Osharlequin says:

      You may be right my friend, but it’s not an easy mantle to shift. You are most welcome as always! And thank you as well!

      The Oldschool Harlequin

      • Lia says:

        Sorry did not see this till now. I quite agree! I very, very much agree. Still wearing mine, I believe. ;)) but it’s getting lighter… :)) πŸ¦‹ πŸ’› hugs to the asylum. πŸ€—

      • Osharlequin says:

        Awww, I hope that you find the strength to remove the mantle one day my friend. πŸ™‚ Hugs to you!

        The Oldschool Harlequin

      • Lia says:

        Sometimes it keeps me warm? Lol. Same to you. :)) xoxox

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