The Color Blue

There's nothing about the color blue But it's written all over you It has no taste or mellow sound But too much of it will make you frown It cannot be touched or felt with hands Blue possesses no properties in pens, in crayons That can draw a picture, or a painting to display The flusters of emotion which bend and fray And change at an instant All is come unglued And complexion is pale again, skin anew There is something about the color blue It is only worn by few Sees right past the wrongs that were made right And can not let go of pain and fright It will not fade white or smear with a smile Blue lingers on and stays for a while