This was not at all the sort of picture I began with, friends. Definitely a case of the creation overtaking the mind. But, perhaps, it better knew my heart today than I did…
She was an average-looking sort
On the outset.
But, as time wore on
And the crayons pressed
Against her paper visage,
Oblong slices of mismatched colors,
Signaling more was to her
Than initially appeared.
More that might be viewed grotesque,
But, also, more that could be a
New definition of
Some would stare openly, puzzled.
Others would turn aside disdainfully,
But a few would look into the
Myriads of her multi-colored, misfit heart
And declare her vibrant of soul.
And those are the ones she surrounds
Those are the ones to whom
She can let the kaleidoscope of
Her face show.