It is boredom, not borne in hands
And thundered hiddenness
That mimics sea swept over sands
…staid repetitiveness
It whispers words like ‘woe is me’
And bleeds a blue-toned sigh
And only keeps the company
Of me, myself and I
© Janet Martin
a bit o' blues...you choose why:)
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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!