where be mer
bottle of bluing
ye know, da one
tat's used to treek
yer eye in seeing
yellard stained
linens as pristine
fresh snow white
for tat bottle
with its little
ground mineral
will brighten dis
sullied soul tat's
been dragged down
to da gutter view
for tat bottle
wit its powdered
azure dust will
turn dis ragged
tone to petals
tossed in angelic
flight e'er white
treeky viewing
a hue from bluing
trading brittle
torn pages past
lessons from da
looking glass,
for glamorous tale
behind pale veil
trading veins
unfolding paths
once traveled,
for salty flats
wit aimless reaches
and barren fonts
eyes surmise
what's seen aherd,
dat's all dat's said
so a bit of
bluing for deir
viewing and need
not know true
yellar deir pristine
white as snow
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