I opened the box of crayons once again.
All the colours of it still remain the same.
Red reminded me of love.
Yellow reminded me of hope.
Blue reminded me of peace.
Purple and orange reminded me
of mystery and energy.
Yet, I doubt my words and this box
can ever describe what I see in you.
I threw the box away in annoyance.
I looked at the broken crayons on the floor.
Some were sharp.
Some were used.
Some cracked right through the middle.
Some parts which were one – now lost.
but hey, no matter how broken they are
they still can colour the world.
SCRIBBLER – NAZMI MAHAMOOD