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Ode to Crayons
Aqua, Magenta,
tangerine, burgundy,
A waxy rainbow of untold
mystery,
Filled to maximum
capacity,
loads and loads of
creativity.
Sharp blunt ends
pointing towards you,
Impatiently waiting,
all brand new,
You can’t help but
stare too,
Thinking to yourself,
“Oh what should I do?”
Slowly reaching
almost there,
Looking for the right color
everywhere,
You spot it, “Oh! Oh!
Right there! Right there!”
Snatching it
swiftly to only scribble and stare.
Now almost finished
a final touch,
One last fill in or
shape and such,
The waxy rainbow looks like a
little much,
Now lying all over like a
splattered colorful mush.
The previous perfection
now deceased,
The flawless rainbow
Now forever unleashed,
Wonderment, excitement, enjoyment
released,
All that’s left is a messy, scribbled on,
unorganized sheet.
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