New Poetry Wednesday: Crayons


In my box of crayons
Black, darker shades of grey,
And jewels all sparkle waiting
Waiting to play, draw
What life bestows this day
Hoping all the while that white
That white stays away

Learned to loathe white
Pain and suffering it brings
Not the worse snake in this
This little box of crayons
I could only wish
Such is not my hand

In shadows, lurk crayons
Uncolored, unseen
Only felt in the marks
The marks they make
Marks they cover up
Invisible caverns left on
The page even bridges cannot cross

Every day, they come to play
Only a little mark here and there
But the tables turned, crayons broke
Broke under white’s war campaign
Releasing the invisible crayons
In the aftermath, so much unseen
Chasms and scars ripping the paper
Apart my life is pulled
Scramble to gather the enemies
As they march, mark on and on

White’s dutiful soldiers
No matter how I scream
Scream for them to stop,
To reveal themselves to me
Messing up best laid plans
Stopped the small victories
That had headed my way

Need room to breathe
Without the invisible
Closing in, closing me off
Want the before when I
When I could grab them
Give them names and tones
In order to find peace, integrate

Why white, why do this
Why do you do this to me

No time to rebuild dreams,
To contain the rebellion
As they bleed into mine
My precious colors

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