Crayon in Hand

You made happy pictures out of crayon.
Imperfect. But bold. Red suns with brilliant
golden rays. Happy girls and ice cream cones.
Blue oceans with leaping whales. The sound
of giggling, your legs running, taking you to
a bigger canvas, but also, a more arduous task.
You're aware of the people seeing back.
The watching, judging.

And suddenly the colours are a little more grey.
There's more deliberation. Consideration. But we never
stop to ask the question.

When did this become about someone
else?