A Different Shade of Blue

The sky blue I knew, had faded fast,

Had been replaced by, a grey of dust.

The turquoise green, that shone bright,

Were cold, sad, a watery plight.

The gold that shone, so lustrous is now,

A charred brown hollow, a seeming frown.

The hazel eyes, are a washed up glass,

No emotion or trace of our past.

For when you left, so did the colour,

The colour that gave your eyes life.

And when you faded, lights became duller,

Everything became an unending strife.

For no one saw, what came that day:

And forgiveness, is an ancient term,

That such a wild rage, would never decay,

And revenge would always stand firm.

For who can quench the thirst

Of a wrenched heart, thirsty for no more

Than he, who tore it apart?

Like figures drawn on the shore,

That fade after constant abrasion

Like a dress tearing at the seems

Waiting for any flimsy reason

To break and tear and be unmend-able

Like a shattered pot waiting

For the potter's loving hands,

To restore it to a whole being

And rejoin the broken shards.

So did I wait for the hue

Of the sky coloured blue;

To flood back and replenish

The lifeless glassy varnish

coating the old friend I held in my hands.

Still, the glassy washed up blue

Stared me stark in the face.

And held no hint nor clue

Of the friendship: left without a trace.

So as I stared at the drain on his visage

I grew to like and understand that glass hue

And when my weary feet won't budge:

I imagine the Different shade of Blue.