Even though, deep in your mind,
Your fearful of what you might find,
A woman's instinct sound and true,
Can even shout and scream at you,
Yet heart rules head, we know the score,
The clues are there, yet we still ignore,
Holding onto our loves young dream,
Rumours rife, yet still won't believe,
Evidence waved, right under our snouts,
But still we just can't kick him out,
Cut him some slack, a bit more rope,
He'll hang himself, the useless dope.

I ask her to describe her mood
By color
& she said*  *"blue"
& I asked her why she's sad
She responded

*"I'm not,
I just love the way the ocean makes me feel
I love the water
So therefore I'm blue"

Where and when my loved ones die,
I find it really hard to cry,
If just one tear, out would pop,
I think I'd start, and never stop,
My preferred route of self defence,
Is to play a game of false pretence,
No ones died , this dream's so vile,
I've just not seen them, for a while.

I came across some paper,
It was crumpled, torn and frayed,
Stained with ink and tears,
A tormented artist played,

Their heavy heart and troubled mind,
Had written words so true,
A hidden path into their world,
A reason for their blues,

Inspired by your written words,
I penned one of my own,
To tell you not to worry,
That you will never be alone,

My heavy heart lifted
With the words I wrote,
Flowing without effort,
Upon this tear stained note,

I put this note into the bin,
As I decided to walk away,
To hide the emotion of my soul,
Of where this artist played.