Blue Bird

You're a rush, an injection
So sudden and quick
And, I'll be honest with you
Your constant presence makes me sick

It's quite easy, actually
To overdose on you
To be eaten up by your singing, your presence
Until all I see is blue

You're sickly sweet like bad candy
Those blue bonbons that dye one's tounge
You were a novelty when I was younger,
But now you're just not that fun

You're rude and self-centred,
Always preening your wings
Admiring your reflection
And only able to talk about YOU-related things.

Why did I make this commitment,
When you can barely see me?
Always preoccupied with the magnificent feathers
That now grace your body

I shouldn't think this,
But I wish you would molt.
Maybe then you could work on your personality,
Instead of being blinded by your coat of cobalt.

The End

14 comments about this poem Feed