a world so crumpled in the folds of black and white exhibit no color, no individuality or hopefulness.
a world of conditions, agreements, and contracts dwindled the creative senses of the budding youth and the creativity of the newly implied, fruitful minds, but the youth never entirely failed.
when pushed down into the heaps of ranks amd despair, a dew hopefuls remained.
youth used the broken bits of crayons, of whole pieces and shavings to apply to the crumpled corners of the world, starting off with a few swipes of color among the horizon and the skyscrapers of the world.
the once black and white world began to blossom in shades of violets and yellows, bleeding down the white pages, smearing among that of shades of blues and greens, creating a world that was once referred by legends or stories as being a a world full of color, a world so fruitful in love and perseverance, and it ended up being strong enough again to become reborn once more from the hands of the youth.