Singing the blues

In the shower,

Washing dishes,

In the basment parking,

In the hard moments,

I sing the blues.

I sing the blues badly.

My voice hoarse,

Tired, raw, never pleasant,

No amount of honey

Will make it sound sweet.

I sing the blues,

Because what else is there?

What can you do, in this world?

When the cracks spread and deepen,

With the tensions, pulling you apart.

With love, at times so cruel.

What can you do but sing it.

Sing the blues, cry the pain ,

In scales of whisky, biting, bracing.

You sing the blues, in this life,

In this life, you sing the blues,

The blues, until you don't.

Until you sing no more.