You might not take me into consideration that much, but to me you are my everything.Without you I am an abandoned dream maker slowly making my way down the hall. Scuffing my pine green paint coat with gold lettering that glimmers like the lights on a christmas tree. But I want to be the brilliant daisy yellow that all my friends are. Why a christmas tree in the middle of summer, surrounded by sunflowers? Why me?
I started out young and alpine, but I am diminished more and more every day by the dreaded sharpener. In the right hand I can give dimension to normal writing, and prove a theory wrong with the flick of an eraser. I can write stroies about far off distant places and the wonderful princesses that live there. I sit in my dark, enclosed cage thinking about the day that I will shine. Then I'll show those apathetic yellow hunks of wood that a christmas tree can give hope to anyone, even when it's not the right season.
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