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Like a Crayon Box.

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I'm torn in to pieces and I'm broken inside,
With the plastered fake smile on my face, the tears I hide,
Like a crayon box you used every thing in me to color your life,
Little do you know that rainbows get washed away and from dreams you wake,
I'll be strong and wiping away the hot tears that burn my cheeks, revenge I'll take,
I'll step on the branches with which we used to write our name on the sand,
I'll curse the times when you promised to stay by my side,
I'll tell you how it's done and move on because I can,
I have the strength inside me and soon as a ghost in my memory you shall stay,
Don't worry, slowly I'll wash the crayon colors away.



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scenesoccerqueen said...
Jan. 10, 2012 at 1:31 pm
All I have to say is WOW! I really like the way you referred to a crayon box and the metaphor of the rainbow and dreams! Very nice poem...Also it flowed nicely too.
 
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