
The boundaries of my pages can't contain my vivid tales that paint the room from blue shades that dwell doom and gloom to soft pastel and warm caramel that assure me all will be well.
Stories just like those we heard as kids in bed with some pages that bleed red, and others stained yellow from staying open to the sun, celebration, dancing and chasing thrills just for fun.
Judged by some as if i was bound in a black and white hard cover but little did they know my lining was emerald green. Hidden gems can be seen between the lines in the lessons learnt of where I have been.
Where I go next will likely colour outside the outline of pictures others can stay in and be fine. Inside me turn blank pages waiting for to come alive, painting myself with pride by living the truth that is mine and thrive.
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