“What is blue?” asked a child, so very small.
To which a man answered, “Blue is several things, I will tell you a few, but not all,”
“Blue is the ocean, the rivers and streams,”
“Blue is the “splish splash” of water, which in the sunlight will gleam,”
“Blue is the flavorful taste of a seafood cuisine,”
“Lobster, shrimp, and crab, found beneath the deep blue sea,”
“Blue is the aroma, of blueberry pie,”
“Blue is the immense, infinite sky,”
The child delighted, cried thank you and ran away,
And left the man brooding on the words he had just finished to say
He knew that though these things he had said were true,
There was more than just joy when it came to blue,
“Blue is the feeling you get when you’re down”,
“Blue is the sadness that engulfs you and forces you to frown”,
“Blue is the emotion of misery and pain”,
“Blue is the dark dreary day, in which it will rain”,
Another man saw, what the former had said,
And pondered within himself, he pondered in his head,
He knew that blue was not quite, as bad as this man thought,
Blue was a sensation of music, burning fiery hot,
Blue was the blues, the wonderful noise,
That flowed from the soul, and out through the voice,
Out through the saxophone, piano, trumpet and bass,
Blues shook the hearts of every human race,
Blues was a way to channel depression and shame,
Without blue, the world would never be the same,