Earphones

Blue Earphones
Rubber headed, soft
I'd listen to them all the time
On my bicycle, standing in the train
By the stained glass of my window,
Watching the grey rain.
I'd love the sound of them
The words would strangle my mind
The gloom would squeeze my eyes
The songs you'd record
Were always on their way to haunt me
From every other stereo forever.
I was accustomed to them for long
I never felt them borne
And put them subtly in my pockets.
They'd tangle into each other 
So often and so unknowingly.
Always rescued by relieving only one.
Till I gave away the depth of burgundy
And their tone grew so cold,
Never knew when one ceased to work
The one that used to lean on me from right.

Their sound together still beats my eardrums,
Sometimes to smiles, sometimes to tears
Sometimes so eerie, making me leery
About buying another pair.
And I'd still try and turn it on, listen from left
Asking the other side to stand by.