“She had blue skin,
And so did he.
He kept it hid
And so did she.
They searched for blue
Their whole life through,
Then passed right by –
And never knew.”

-Shel Silverstein

I can never be your “Blue”:
I am two shades darker, I suppose
(Cobalt or Prussian?)
Or was I the Azure of the sky?
Or the Sapphire in your eyes?
Or the Cerulean sea, maybe…
Or somewhere in between.

I was “Blue”…once…
Your “Blue”, maybe
In a palette, not scrubbed too clean of its previous shades.
So how could I stay unaffected?
When the “Red” hit me hard, I thought
“Purple” was royal, and majestic
But I forgot, that “Purple” was also the shade
Of a bruise…
Or maybe…there is a dollop of “Yellow” in me
Somewhere,
Deep down, like a submerged island of butter,
And when it dilutes, you’ll see
That I am probably, a slight shade of “Green”.
And I thought “Green” was symbolic of luck,
But “Green” also stood for envy…
There were secondary shades of “Pink” and “Sienna”
And they did nothing, but add on to my misery
The misery of seeing my skin, turning to horrific shades
Till a point came, when I turned “Black”
And “Black” seeped into my soul and turned it into charcoal;
No light could pass through me anymore…
I was the absorber of all things beautiful,
But reflection, was out of the question!

So would you believe me now, if I told you?
That I was the “Blue” of your depressive outbursts,
Or the “Blues” of your tunes.
Or the “Blue” of your walls that were the mute spectators
As they watched the mingling of two shades of “Blue”,
In a bright “Orange” afternoon.
But the “Blue” you called your own,
Is lost now, in the Sea of Hues,
Trying still, for a salvation of some kind.
Will you be patient with me, then?
Will you?

19 June 2016

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