People always ask me What my favorite color might be, Purple in my heart Blue in my mind Yellow in my sky A crimson streak of passion always passing by. But when I write I seem to flow On the color Indigo. Its purplish midnight hue Seems to seep from my heart And and into my pen. Of all the colors I see and feel This is the one That grabs me, Tosses me, Laughs with me, Cries with me. As I meditate Deep in thought I wander Wherever my heart will flow I always come short as I walk Through the wall of Indigo. Everyone has their colors They call whatever flows Mine I call it Indigo. No one else can feel it quite like I do My own personal mantra In-di-go…..In-di-go. People always ask me What my favorite color might be. The same one that swaddled me at birth And will wrap me in death. No one else knows what I know About the color Indigo.