He says he couldn’t go out and find anyone better than me
(at least at this school),
But how untrue!
I may almost be the brightest crayon in the box,
But since when does that even matter,
When all this knowledge is merely trapped inside my mind?
And he could find himself a beautiful blue,
So much prettier to look at than me,
Perhaps even graceful, if he put in enough effort to find her.
He could find himself a confident orange,
(And he would not need to coax her to speak because she is)
Bursting at the seams to spill out her thoughts and feelings
And daily dramas, always ready to entertain him for hours.
He could discover a warm and welcoming red
Wandering the halls,
Simmering and ready to warm his heart
With for sure love and outward affection.
He could find a sweet and gentle and cute little green,
Delicate and gorgeous; sweet and giggly.
Purple could even be his, is he wanted;
Rebellious at every turn,
And always so sure of herself,
Even when she is totally wrong.
He could have the rainbow;
They all roam these halls.
I am only one not-so-significant color.
He could do so much better.