When The Blues Get Me Poem by Edwina Reizer

How many people get the blues like I?
When bad things happen I want to cry.
But when I cry the blues don't go.
They stick around for too damned long
and so
I shake my fists and say, 'what's wrong? '

Sometimes those blues go away for days.
Sometimes I'm happy like spring bouquets.
And when those blueless days appear
it makes me want to stand and cheer
'Hurray for life.'
My fists are unclenched and I persevere.

I enjoy these times when the blues are gone.
I praise the sunset and the light of dawn.
I expect the best out of myself
and place those blues in a bottom drawer.
But the blues aren't satisfied.
There are more in store.

Blues, you make me hate how I feel.
You settle in and then you steal
peace, contentment and harmony
like a cascade of dissonance
that comes over me.
So I clench my fists and cry.