Soft imprints of carpet on knees,
16 years old only trying to please,
Catastrophic catastrophe,
Blue hues in the soul,
So sad, down trodden youth,
5 hours of painting alone,
In a furnitureless room,
In an empty home,
Sweat across my brow,
Paint down my cheeks,
Like permanent tears,
Rocking back on my feet,
Limbs stretching cramping,
Looking at what I had created,
A blue cube,
Took tuck my emotions into,
Keep it sealed air tight,
A burning rage built up inside of me,
I looked to the cealing and screamed,"God I wish I had a dad to help me!"
I lost my head that day,
My spirit threw the roof,
I gathered gallons of paint cans,
Displayed them in a row,
Blue hues,
For a blue soul,
Elbow deep I dipped my dry hands,
Into the cold wet colored liquid,
Smearing and spreading,
Punching and slapping,
Blue hues,
For a blue soul,
In a blue room,
With no one to hold,
I screamed and wept as each color bled,
From my heart to the wall,
A tidal wave of madness,
It keeps my secret safe and sound,
The murderous crys,
My heart defeated,
The tears that mixed with the buckets of paint,
Decorating the room,
It dominates my life,
My tidal wave of sadness
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