My Blue Lover Poem by Bill Cantrell

The blues is a most sacred place
It is hallowed ground
When I have been discarded,
Left for dead,
The living took my boots,
My identity and my organs they sold for a mere meal
In all the inequities planted on my integrity,
I found myself walking naked and ashamed,
For I even believed the lie in my weakened state
Yet, my deliverer proved to be my readjustment
She released my emotions through the bluest blues
My guitar was given a heart,
And i slaughtered the hordes as they came looking for my corpse
Although she is a high,
Just as a drug, I crash after her kiss
Yet, it is enough to keep me going until the next encounter
No, do not look down on the blues,
For she knows the deepness of our pain,
And though she teases us with our wants,
It's ok, for after all, she is a woman,
It's all good.