(Trigger warning)
At least broken crayons can still be colored with.
All I am,
Is a white crayon.
Useless,
Yet always there.
Why am even included in the box?
But there is a piece of black paper,
That needs you,
Because only you,
Can color on black paper.
So don't fret,
There is a piece of black paper,
Out there,
Somewhere,
For you.
YOU ARE READING
Drowning In Reality
PoetryWe all need to dive into fantasy to keep ourselves from drowning in reality.
