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
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