with a box
of crayons
go at it on the floor.
a coloring book open.
you can see
how it's going to go
in the coming years.
the one keeping the color
between the lines,
careful
to pick blue for the sky.
green for the grass.
and then there's the child
all over place,
with no reason or rhyme
to which crayon chosen.
they can't get enough of black.
crazy seems to start
somewhere between
three and four and from there,
there's no turning back.
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