Crayola

Bringing forth emotions never before described,
like that sixty-four pack of crayons
you just had to have.
(With the little sharpener on the back?)
So many colours that one word
won't fit-
Red
becomes dusty brick red.
Love
is that off-shade of pink you can never seem to find-
and pain
is the darkest crow-feather black and angel white.
Hope
is the little crayon nub at the bottom,
and pride
is every new crayon's first use
and every sharpening after that.
Life is the blank page
and what we feel, we create;
if only for ourselves at the end of the day.
The lessons learned won't be erased-
only admired,
and mistakes are to be expected.