Aubergine

Through my stained-glass eye I spy a peculiar dye And it’s a creeping melancholy overtone This shade, it comforts and casts As many others have done in the past But it’s a pigment that is all my own It’s a color that’s other than the blue That I usually find I fall into when I start to feel like this If a hint of this pain is closing in On a rosily-tinted view, but then it is pointless to resist As anniversary tears are crying out in sad uneven years It might as well be aubergine She blushed and turned away as I attempted to say “Who’s given you that little badge of history?” For shе wore an ancient bruise Likе the flame that flickered the fuse And ever since the memory is all I feel It’s a color that’s other than the blue One I usually find I fall into when I start to feel like this If the hint of that pain is closing in On a rosily-tinted view, but then it is pointless to resist As anniversary tears are trying out in sad uneven years It might as well be aubergine Through my stained-glassed eye I spy a peculiar dye And it’s a creeping melancholy overtone For she wore an ancient bruise Like the flame that flickered the fuse And ever since the memory is all I feel