Bits of crayons lying on the floor
like colourful pebbles on the shore
But they aren't anything so pretty
Just mess, that kids didn't care for.
Lying around and gathering dust
orphans without heads or tails
No one to hold them or share
nor to throw them away.
But they aren't worthless, these bits
still have some colour to give
Waiting for someone to spy them
away from their shadowy corners
And lead them again to the table
to fill more pages and patterns.
But no one bothered to care
and they kept running astray
Destined to be soon forgotten
and replaced by a brand new set.
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