A BLUE MONDAY MANUFACTURED

I dwell within a Child’s Heart—
A Broken Toy—abandoned—
A Manufactured Monday’s hue—
Rejected—left unbandaged—

A Smile—a Smudge of Chocolate—
Upon a Face—unfeeling—
For Wages small—too slight to hold—
Emotions—swiftly leaving—

The Strong—perhaps—do live this way—
A leak—within the Vessel—
As Moses fled—the Ark set sail—
I swim—no need to wrestle—

For I—like Fish—no Feelings know—
We glide—our Hearts unweeping—
The World is shades—of Colors bright—
But Flesh—its meat—so creeping—

I love the Hues—but loathe the Hand—
That seeks my flesh—yet spurns my Soul—
A Leak—unplugged—Moses—he sees—
And FEMA comes—with Guns of Gold—

The Fish—they stare—they understand—
No Feelings left—no Heart to mend—
I am a Blue Monday’s Child—
A Manufactured—End—

:: 08.27.2024 ::