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We are colorless.
Drained from the start, never given a chance to paint the world with our beauty.
Drained by the expectations of others, our color fades into dull shades of gray.
But those left with color paint us all,
They color the sky blue, and the grass green.
They color us with beauty and make us unique.
They paint our souls with pictures of hope,
They paint our minds with knowledge.
They teach us how to paint,
Together we color the world with our achievements,
And it is unlike anything else.
We create the world from just one brush.
Existence.
It's such a weird thing to have.
We don't ask for it,
We don't all want it,
And yet we have it.
Some are given the "gift" of existence because they were created to be loved.
We are given life through the intimacy of others.
We didn't ask to be here.
Put on this earth to suffer until we finally give up or give in.
We give up this beautiful life that we are given by neglecting all of the beautiful things we are capable of.
We give in to being dull and gray.
Each day we go to the same place, do the same thing, and see the same sights.
This makes us weak and emotionless.
Broken beings that have lost that beauty of existence.
We give in to the destroying and demeaning words from strangers.
We let them destroy this beauty inside of us,
We let them **** our hope.
But why?

— The End —