Bluey
Poem about how the children’s show Bluey makes me feel

I immersed myself inside a cell of shindigs and bright whimsical color
Of something more true than I could ever hope for,
A real dad who gets upset and who yells,
A real mom who needs time to relax and is so cheeky with her husband,
But I really can’t place it:
It’s more about the real life emotions of how they don’t explain life, it just happens.
Moments happen, they live.
Life happens, they live it,
And they cry over experiences lost,
If they are overwhelmed by their digital lives
And a non-sentient being is cried over for their loss of a real memory,
It hurts too, and I saw that the feelings
Were genuine,
As real and as beautiful as their family and their crazy antics and their funny stories and dancing.
It’s love, after-all.
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