Whispers of boldness, pastels bring out a new rainbow;
Opening the huge Crayola box of my childhood days.
Sitting in front of the TV every Saturday morning;
Watching the cartoon shows with a little bit of interest.
My coloring book open to a very detailed landscape,
Mixing and matching the colors within my box of crayons.
Patiently coloring with a subtle eye, shades and shadows;
My statement to the art world in my childhood fantasy.
I was drawn to the detailed pictures, to the less bold colors;
The pastels were always the first to enter my sharpener.
Gentle shades coaxing my eyes to see the reality of diversity;
The vast variety of combinations, endless within my pallet.
I was always very proud of my coloring books within myself,
But somewhat embarrassed at my vulnerability as a man's man.
Feeling separate from my brother who stuck with the big eight;
Pastels he traded me for the bright and the bold in my box.
I wonder the meaning of this subtle side of my personality;
Not being your mainstream masculine type guy by no stretch.
Looking back into the diversity of the genders and our reality;
Marked in the pastels, expanding the definition; yes, I am a man.
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