The Deuce II

The blue in your arm could be traced in a line,

While the blue in my mind could hardly be tracked.

I tried to look at the world through rose coloured glasses,

While you looked through the rose and peeped into my soul.

The sweetness of your voice rang through the deafening silence,

While the sweetness in my coffee was sickening me.

I speak in tongues of hellish pain, of sorrows hard for people to understand,

While you speak in verses from the poem long forgotten yet so easy to comprehend.

The smile on your face is something from a dream come true,

While the smile on my face was barely true.

I thought I found you but I hadn’t, merely the illusion of you was all that I created.

I played God and I made you in the shape of the Deuce.