As children, we clutch crayons and long to hold pens.
We watch their magic gliding neatly o'er the page.
We see their modelling perfection with their startling precision
We hold our crayons
like pens in innocent hope to hold a pen ourselves.
So, we save out pennies
but all we're given are crayons with whistles but we disregard this step
because we see the footsteps in the path before out feet.
Then we reach for our golden chalice and seize the gilded pen then look around see and see everyone looking back saying,
"I Want My Crayons Back"