Crayons

Crayola has the right idea

Every color in the media

Every tone of every flaw

Yeah, Crayola has them all

The lovely red smudged on your lips

Is the same red running down his wrists

The perfect pink that blushed your cheeks

Is the color lost without food for weeks

The bright lively blue you love in his eyes

Is the same thing she feels every time she cries

The black of her skin you claim to hate

Is the black of the dress you wore your first date

But I bet when you used a crayon of this hue

The label didn’t stand out to you                      

‘Cause it’s not about labels, titles, or names

We’re all made of wax, we all melt the same