What a beautiful color, red, she said

And smashed it down with her hand

Orange is pleasant as well, I can tell!

And crushed it according to plan.

Green, so keen, a fervent shade

Like the days they would spend in the park.

But now that tone was meaningless,

Only envious, raging with stark.

Blue, so true, a trait she knew

That she once saw in his eyes

But then they looked into another girl’s

..it’s a shame that they both had to die.

Black, the cracks, in the wall of her cell

Where she’ll spend her next 40 years

Coloring, smashing her crayons to bits

Her every day filled with austere.

But then she laughs, as she picks up brown

Renowned for his once silky hair

And she smashes it, crashes it, overall bashes it

There’s art in this somewhere!

So she picks up her pink and her purple and yellow

What a fellow, she ponders, so wry 

But when they shatter on the paper this time

She realizes they’re gone and cries.

Upon this scene her guard asks what’s wrong 

Apologies left unspoken? 

No, she spits back, he is forgotten, 

As dead as my crayons are broken.