The Blues

I'm a pebbled lyric textured in smoke,
if only I drank grace more often, I'd be smoother,
I'd have a shine that gave the moon its proper reflection.

I float from the lips of someone troubled and perplexed by the plate they were served.
What else did they expect? Something better than the blues?

I'm many different shades of melancholy,
no one knows what kind yet everyone understands.
Nighttime is my best time.
It's when it is ok to be naked.

When I'm left hanging in the air,
someone grabs ahold of me and invites into their memories.
I come and sit with them there, be with them there.

I sound lonesome but I have many friends,
they inhale pieces of pebbled feelings that I have to offer.
It rounds them out.
Someone's always singing the blues.