Life is like a box of crayons.
At birth, you're given a great big box of them to share and add color to your life.
Some colors get used more than others.
Sometimes, a crayon gets broken. A Bright color gets snapped in half and tossed in the garbage can, never to be returned. Sometimes you keep coloring. Sometimes you can't. That color was important.
Sometimes a crayon is gained, shared between two people. That color might be just perfect, and works great! Other times it's a different shade, but it will make do.
But, there is always one color left in the box.
Black.
It's normally unused until death. It's used to frame the picture. To add the final border to the coloring board of life.
Some people use it. They color onto other's pictures with it. Sometimes their own.
They use it to scribble out portions of the picture. Sometimes the portion isn't that important.
Sometimes it is.
Sometimes there are multiple blacks in the box when you open it for the day.. Sometimes there's only one, or it isn't even there.
It all depends, really.
All depends on the crayon box.














Devious Comments
Comments
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Oh crip, you're a crapple!
All is well. I love this piece.
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"I want to run, but only far enough to make you miss me. "
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Ninja vanish.
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(I play with rhymes, but never reason.)
Check out my gallery: [link]
this writing was so well done, it really hits alot of memories.
~awesome job
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"Never give up on something that you can't go a day without thinking about."
^.^~
And, thanks.
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O o
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| IMMA FIRIN' MAH LAZOR!!!
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Haven't happened upon you on DAmn for a while, hope everything's good.
Favorited, very much so.
Not fun.
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O o
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| IMMA FIRIN' MAH LAZOR!!!
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( \ /)
( . .)
c(")(")
the memories you wish to hold are taken by the fog of time
but those you pray to forget become clearer with every dawn
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