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My Blue
Synesthesia, My blue
People say they are blue, sad, depressed and worn through
To me blue was a different hue
Bright, hopeful, it could be different for you
The shade, tint, and tone, can be subjective
But Colors themselves are perspective
A spectrum in the realm where senses intertwine,
A symphony of colors, a privilege divine
Where perceptions are in harmony, their truths suspend.
Synesthesia is everywhere
It knows no end
Life is a kaleidoscope
full of different colors, different perspectives
Memories, colors from the past
Their meaning is retrospective
Talk to someone about their hue
Notice something new
But your blue is always gonna be you.
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