It’s All Blues

Life, a heavy play
of altered fates
and hellish debates;
words hold serrated edges
as the drama unfolds.

It’s all blues under the sun
as the moon manages not
to lull me to sleep.

News, a crutch and curse
as we heed not 
the finest sources;
forces and powers that be,
feeding on hope and mimicry.

It’s all blues under the stars
as what’s below leads me away
from their light.

All in a hero’s night, one’s plight 
to strive for what’s right;
yet the blood spills, filling
the bellies of the violent, fueling
tales of confusion and spite.

Time, a commitment and commodity,
either to support or avoid integrity;
but whether anyone will hear or care
is the mark of their humanity.

It’s all blues under the sun,
as I hear weeping from every side
as they try to further their strides.