White crayon

In the tranquil times of life,

The farthest reach of my mind,

A tone of thoughts and ideas appear unbidden.

A motionless bliss of disenchanted scenes

Made me stop all of a sudden

Wondering of what place

And what purpose in life might have I been.

Am I a white crayon?

Unorthodox, unknown to many.

People neglected me,

Useless if may see,

But I have my own purpose:

Make things better, livelier, and brighter;

That a brave a true artist can see.

I am a piece of Art.

I am valuable, superseding other colors.

I show authority like no one else could.

I am my own masterpiece that this world

Needs to be seen.