What is Blue? By Jessica K

What is Blue?                                                                                                             By Jessica K

When people think of blue,

They think of sadness.

They think of that glum,

Lifeless, hidden feeling, echoing drip-drip

Like a leaky faucet in an empty room.

Sadness should be black.

But blue, on the other hand, 

Is bright.

It is free and peaceful,

As it drifts, spreading beautifully through the sky,

Yet wild and majestic,

Like the depths of a mysterious ocean.

Blue floats like a balloon,

Bringing joy and smiles to children,

And sings like a bird,

Lightly twittering soft notes for all to enjoy.

Blue could be thought of as

Peace, freedom, serenity,

And happiness.

But I understand the arguments 

For blue's identity as sadness.

Blue can be dark,

Cold,

And quiet.

A deep navy

That slowly swirls

Reaching its icy tendrils

And filling our shadows with suffocating haze.

It is the water echoing drip-drip

Like a leaky faucet in an empty room.

Blue is the color of remorseful tears,

Of angry, cloudy skies

And the choking rain that comes with them.

Blue is sometimes sad.

But only sometimes.

But why must we force an identity upon blue?

Blue can be what it wants

In the eyes of anyone.

Blue can represent misery,

And blue can be an example of joy.

Blue can even be angry,

Or jealous,

Or proud.

Blue is an opinion.

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