I'm blue.
Blue like the sky
in the middle of July.
Blue like an ocean
Not devastated by the modern world's contortion.
I'm a happy blue boy
That the modern world doesn't want to employ.
I'm blue
And I'm walking down this gray street
That I know I won't ever fit
Into like into the blue sky.
I don't belong to this demension
And people don't even care about my intention.
But I don't care anymore,
So I'm knocking on her door.
The door to the girl's home.
That girl who's blue.
And I'm blue, too.
YOU ARE READING
Lame Thoughts
PoetrySome lame stuff. Someone told me that I should write poems, but I can't write poems. But if you're intrested, you can read.
