Different colored crayons


A new box of colored crayons standing
at attention all jammed together
all are pointed and not yet used
some will become dull and all worn down

broken from being pushed too hard
yet we keep some in a mason jar
or in an old coffee tin
maybe to be used at another time
no matter how worn they’ve been

sharpened in the back of the box
they’ll become functional once more,
the ones you like the best
are the ones that get so small
till they can’t be used again

no difference how small they get
they serve the same function as the rest
but some always choose the same pigment
until they’re gone, no more left

then having to pick a new color
one that they don’t like
is one tint better than another?
within themselves they fight

every hue plays their part
no matter how old or new
there is no color
prettier than the other
still, many don’t have a clue

that it’s all the colors in the box
that draw the pictures true
our world won’t become beautiful
without all the choices we can choose.

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This Poems Story

This is a metaphoric poem on racism.