I cannot predict when I will cry for you,
it usually can come out of the blue,
as seemingly trivial as that appears,
there is no solution for these tears.
I waited an hour that turned to days
the other day I began to wonder ways
I might have ruined the beauty of you
the wonder of love seeming out of the blue
Sometimes, piecing together lives seems old
we are not meant for this not a me or you,
instead we draw conclusion out of the blue,
the two of us stand naked again, so it is cold.
I wonder just when I’ll stop feeling this blue,
will it matter to her, will it matter to you?
© Scott F Savage 2019