Sackcloth and ashes

In the depths of my closet
I was frantically fumbling for
the right one of
the many shades of blue
torn off the sky
when you failed to
bring me down the stars
and thoughtlessly promised
me the moon.

Once I found it
I saw it was faded
to a shabby shade of grey
like sackcloth and ashes
just as the relentless skies
above me.
The only one left blue
is me.