How can love be so lonesome that it turns blue,
Even when you inveigle to let it stay red?
How can you even feel so utterly alone
Despite being in a relationship with someone else?
Yes, you call each other various endearments
That signify a loving connection between you both.
Yet, you still go home to an empty house
And lay in an emptier bed, at night.
But, you really want it to work, this time;
So, you keep up the comfortable pretense
And stay loyal to the elected label, you acquired–
That you’re in love; that ’tis authentic;
And that forever’s within your easy grasp.
So, you get on with your daily vacuous existence
And declare that you’re not available.
A lot of others wish to befriend you;
Yet, you shy away from new acquaintances,
Insisting that you’re hooked and taken–
And that you’re just waiting for the future to unfold.
Then, someone new comes hurtling along
And, in truth, you’re a teensy bit intrigued;
But, you staunchly opt to remain faithful to love.
Hence, you heave and you push–
Until they perceive that the door’s actually closed.
Thus, you reach home, again–
This time, praying that you discover him there;
Though, of course, you glean that the lights aren’t on
And that there’s no one but your shadow, again.
Still, ’tis your choice and it’ll kill you
To even renege and accept that you’re wrong.
So, for you, love remains blue–
Even when you so yearn for it to be a lil’ red.