Some people are blank canvases,
waiting for someone to create them,
waiting for someone to make them into something beautiful,
because they cannot find beauty in themselves.
They are the quiet ones;
the ones in the background allowing people to write all over them.
They get used and abused
and don't know how to say no.

Some people are graffiti walls.
They are the loud ones;
the ones under the spotlight waiting for people to see what they offer.
They can use and abuse,
and don't know when to stop.

But someone people are colored walls.
They show there true colors.
They can be bold red;
they can be haunted grey;
they can be lucky green;
they can be depressed blue;
sunshine yellow;
jolly orange;
mellow purple;
whimsical neon;
or pure white.
They are seen as 'lucky' because they seem to know exactly who they are.
But they are the unlucky ones.
They have no chances to become anything else.
They are who they are and have to live with that forever.

I am colored wall dreaming of becoming a blank canvas.