She reached out to the Mystic Blue.
Waiting for time to stop its crimes,
Backpedal, rewind.
He shines a blue of skies and lies
And can explain what isn’t untrue.
Those of us who believe in fate,
May not understand the choices they make.
For most I can comprehend,
But some I cannot commend.
But at the heart of such a blue,
There is a logic that is not new.
In a field of greens and blues
We will choose a special few.
Not those who rant and chant,
Neither nor the ones that roar.
We will choose the few that dance,
The ones that put us in a trance.
The few that feel the weight of a pedal,
They who can calm a raging kettle.
The ones who never needed a medal,
And never understood that they were special.
For the few that fit that shoe,
Can understand the Mystic Blue.
by Caelan Sujet