#children l like my broken crayons. More than the new ones, they are broken, not useless.
I hold them tight between my fingers, to colour so bright on the paper, I like my broken crayons. My broken crayons are in two's and three's, green and yellow, blue and red. All in two's and three's. They come in handy, when I misplace the new ones, or when the new crayons should remain new, I like my broken crayons.
My broken crayons are as small as my thumb. It worries me to have to throw them away.
Do one throw away a broken finger? Or a broken toe? They are just broken not useless, so are my broken crayons.
I like my broken crayons. Instead of one it comes in three's or four's, When I hold so tight and press so hard.
They aren't as delicate as the new ones, which I am ever afraid will get broken, I like my broken crayons.
I can hold so tight and colour so first, one day I will make broken crayons, as strong and as big as my thumb, two inches thick and tall, just like my thumb. And call them Michael's big crayons, of two's and threes.
