Broken Crayons
Holding up my picture book
To share my triumphs
So contently.
I did my best,
Stayed in the lines,
I was sure I made it pretty.
But no one smiled,
Not one nod,
Not a single bit of praise.
But turned their heads,
Closed their eyes
And quickly walked away.
Hearing chattering
And gossip,
They scrutenized it's faults.
The lines were too deep,
They said, all the colors
Were too dark.
But I did what I was told to.
I was careful
Not to scribble.
It wasn't bright enough,
Quite ugly, they told me
It was simple
With a bowed head
I turned,
My picture book closed.
I broke my crayons
One by one,
And turned to hurting prose.
Closed myself,
Locked up my heart,
And kept them all away.
Now they question why
I hide and frown,
With all new reasons to complain
.
©Krystal Hicks 2000
Holding up my picture book
To share my triumphs
So contently.
I did my best,
Stayed in the lines,
I was sure I made it pretty.
But no one smiled,
Not one nod,
Not a single bit of praise.
But turned their heads,
Closed their eyes
And quickly walked away.
Hearing chattering
And gossip,
They scrutenized it's faults.
The lines were too deep,
They said, all the colors
Were too dark.
But I did what I was told to.
I was careful
Not to scribble.
It wasn't bright enough,
Quite ugly, they told me
It was simple
With a bowed head
I turned,
My picture book closed.
I broke my crayons
One by one,
And turned to hurting prose.
Closed myself,
Locked up my heart,
And kept them all away.
Now they question why
I hide and frown,
With all new reasons to complain
.
©Krystal Hicks 2000