What a beautiful color, red, she said
And smashed it down with her hand
Orange is pleasant as well, I can tell!
And crushed it according to plan.
Green, so keen, a fervent shade
Like the days they would spend in the park.
But now that tone was meaningless,
Only envious, raging with stark.
Blue, so true, a trait she knew
That she once saw in his eyes
But then they looked into another girl’s
..it’s a shame that they both had to die.
Black, the cracks, in the wall of her cell
Where she’ll spend her next 40 years
Coloring, smashing her crayons to bits
Her every day filled with austere.
But then she laughs, as she picks up brown
Renowned for his once silky hair
And she smashes it, crashes it, overall bashes it
There’s art in this somewhere!
So she picks up her pink and her purple and yellow
What a fellow, she ponders, so wry
But when they shatter on the paper this time
She realizes they’re gone and cries.
Upon this scene her guard asks what’s wrong
Apologies left unspoken?
No, she spits back, he is forgotten,
As dead as my crayons are broken.