Color Inside the Lines

At age four, there was a girl,
Who loved her Mommy and Daddy for the world,
And went to preschool in her first pair of jeans
When handed a coloring sheet of biblical scenes,
She was told to color inside the lines.
Four years later, there was a kid,
Acting just like her sister did.
Teachers at school didn’t talk of the Lord.
At recess they let her draw on the blackboard.
But she was told to erase her mistakes.
Five years later, there was a pre-teen.
Who longed to be a beauty queen.
She showed her A’s to everyone,
But Mom and Dad were too busy to see what she’d done.
She was told to go to keep to herself.
Four years later, there was a bitter high-schooler,
Who drank daily pints of vodka from a cooler.
She’d long since lost her virginity,
And when her parents would loudly disagree
She was told to let the grownups talk alone.
Four years later, there was a woman, all alone.
Tried to stop her memories by getting stoned.
Her dreams were far from being deployed.
The billers had grown more than annoyed.
Her boyfriend hit her only once or twice.
And color inside the lines had been everyone’s advice.
She walked to her dresser and pulled out a knife.
Gripping it tightly, she flashbacked across her life.
All these years, people had told her to keep quiet,
To be perfect, to keep to herself, to not be defiant.
That didn’t get me too far, she drunkenly thought,
I despise those people and the lessons they taught.
The knife’s blade felt cool in her hand.
Her mind lusted for blood as a demand.
She knew the Bible said to never take your life,
But she colored outside the lines with that knife.