A Lady Sings The Blues Poem by pauline miller

A LADY SINGS THE BLUES
Lost in a haze of cigarette smoke
dimmed the room that flashes no hues

A velvet skin of sable sits
and softly sings the blues

Arm draped across the table, she rests her drooping head
The pain of bitter sorrow ripping. shred to bleeding red
Her husky voice like zephyr sighs, pours out her story wave on wave.

Worded pictures of broken glass
No net below to save.

The backlash rejection in her voice, rasping out, scarce sucking in

The cheating, beating, lover's words, that now lay settled ‘neath her skin
A beaten, forlorn soul is spent
silence fills the dismal hues

For who but mean would applaud such
sorrow when a beaten lady sings the blues? 


© Pauline Miller.