So, how do I describe color to someone who is blind?
The brightness of the sun they'll never find?
Describing the emotion would be useless to you.
Like using the feeling of the sky to describe blue.
Sometimes I think my emotions come in smells.
Ideas, concepts, it all rings bells.
But if I open my mouth, and try to explain,
Words fail me, and fall down the drain.
I can't describe the smell of creativity.
Nor the smell of running free.
Its like a dream you cannot place,
A passing moment in time and space.
It slips away from my finger tips,
Falling away from my lips.
So strong, so there, so loud it'll shout.
Yet I just can't figure it out.
Its not a flower, its not sweat,
Its the feeling I get when I fret.
Sometimes I think its not real.
But what, then, is the deal?
I don't get it, maybe I'll never know.
I'll just let the ideas flow.