Out of the Blue


In the hue of the early morning all things look blue
When night is still present, yet morning is crescent
Things seem so simple when the day is new.

Like a black and white photo that in color lies inept
Creates a dichotomy between simplicity and depth
I reach my conclusions to questions never asked.

Then comes the evening and the sky fills with color
My busy mind spreads into the pinks, reds and yellows
And the answers that filled my head with sweet sound
Become questions again as I turn them around.

As the sun falls low and sinks into the night
Things begin returning to black and white.
The complexities of the day stick in my soul
As the blunders and mistakes regain their control

But then without fail comes the very next morning
My soul arrives giving my ego no warning
I get lost in the moment that always is new
And changes everything, when all things turn blue.

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