Bluer Than Her Blues

She thought nothing could be as gloomy as her mood in the morning,

Then she looked at the sky filled with clouds,

Not dark, but white, puffy ones,

Which usually made her happy,

Today, it didn’t look like it was easy to make her even smirk.

She thought she could only write sad poems all day,

Run off to a beach with white sand,

Water bluer than her blues,

But then she wrote epilogues,

Each one better than the other.

She thought she couldn’t do it,

With no inspiration,

And a jammed mind,

But here we are, aren’t we,

Staring at another poem,

Summarising another day,

Adding another cloud of thought,

To the sky of poetry.

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