5 February 2025 │ Love Poem

I thought of you for a day or two
Now all I see are shades of blue.

Tonight the Moon has painted me grey,
Sinking into anxiety, like a hunter’s prey.
The lively colours all started to fade
There are no more colours coming for my aid.

This shade of blue is called a past,
The one that chases after you and catches you at last.
The thoughts coming in-all too fast
I drop my pen; it’s time to rest.