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