No longer sent to dreaming places
By colors used to fill the spaces
Childhood memories are made from color
A magic wand for a crayon muller
Don't cross the lines or carelessly scribble
Fill the space and not just a dribble
The boldest colors are the best
For emotions that we must express
Why is it then as we grow older
We shrink to gray instead of bolder
Perhaps this is the dearest cost
When the thrill in color with age is lost
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