Mayday blues

Why is it called the blues?
Late night’s gray and greenish hues
Have filled the air but disperse before you see
Them turn into some shape conceived.
Young couples hug and learn to dance,
Perhaps they’ll grab their only chance…
I watch them struggle with it and sway…
I sip my tea and fade away.
The saxophone begins to cry,
And yet it makes me happy. Why?
The grand piano pours ivory tears,
This Mayday jazz breaks all my fears.


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