Crayon Box

It's such a splendor of mixtures, a colorful colorful world.
Paint palet of personalities, spread all over one place.
All the colors of a crayon box, shown on a person's face.
Expressions with shades bright as the sun;
shades of happy red, orange as a full moon, shining yellow just as stars on the run.
Some at the opposite end of the spectrum,
dramatic change, fading to color a dull picture.
Black as the holes of a shattered heart,
brown as the crisp dead cracking leaves of winter slowly breaking apart.
Dark as the twisting final end of an afternoon summer thunderstorm drifting away,
gloomy electricy fill the empty clouds with grey.
When we wake in the morning, which color to choose,
the box filled with so many choices.
Some a perfect fit,some confused;
some don't make sense, some do.
Is it a plan or destiny, the way the colors play out.
Something like closing your eyes, playing the odds;
pickin a crayon of color, wondering whats coming about.
Or as we wake we decide right then and there,
what color will have on our face , with the world we will share.
Crayon boxes, crowded, so packed together.
As the streets we walk, livin in a heavy mess;
Open and closed, as quick as life will confess.
Reflect on the past,
Which color will it be,
today, tomorrow, in all that the world brings.