Innocence

I remember a time when life was simple. A time when I didn't fear or have a care in the world. When crayons showed how I felt, with my vibrant blues and stunning reds. A time when if I felt alone I could turn to an empty sheet of paper and color until I was happy, but that time has passed and now I'm left with nothing but my old broken crayons. With no creativity left. Only the the voices telling me to conform with everyone else. To be boring and to be normal. Is that possible though for someone like me? I doubt it but we'll see.