Rolling crayons/free verse

March 31, 2016

When I dropped my crayon box

in rainbow slivers on the floor

one person stopped to help me

gather rolling crayons (sixty-four)

Crawling on our hands and knees

we picked up bits of green and blue.

When other people spill their crayons

I will stop to help them too.

Something wrong with this poem?

Replies are closed for this poem.

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.