Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2014
When I was a little girl I used to separate all of my crayons into colors
I had the different blues, reds, yellows, greens
All categorized into section waiting for their turn
And I finally realized
There was always one color left behind, white
Pure and untouched, so uncommon, never used, overlooked
And sometimes I like to think of myself as that **white crayon
authentic
Written by
authentic
2.0k
   --- and Joshua Haines
Please log in to view and add comments on poems