Sweet Clementine, how the years have passed

You used to be an empty pastel canvas

Content with never speaking out

Your voice was weak and filled with doubt

Soon, the long days speckled you with tears

And you started to run away from your fears

Further you went, into this wild world

Your emotions guarded and carefully furled

Your edges brushed up against strange surfaces

And bits of dirt got in through the crevices

You thought your canvas ruined, so you pricked your own heart

And used the blood to add the lost color back, covering art

You taped the edges up and kept going

Determined as always, yet still unknowing

Before long, in the dark of the night, demons broke in

And vandalized your treasure with permanent pen

Your anger grew and you tried to throw it all away

You struggled with the weight, but then stopped midway

It was painful, but your colors had come this far

Dear Clementine, now you know that you can’t get rid of scars

You fell and cried and screamed, but no one came to your aid

So you had to get up on your own and clean up all which was betrayed

Now you wander through mountains, through oceans, and deserts

And come out the other side, to the abandoned outskirts

You’re tired and lonely, and there’s no one here

Until you see a single kindred spirit appear

You rejoice, jumping up and down

Have they no idea what you have just found?

Your colors spill out, you’re a sunrise scene

You let yourself out and expose the unseen

You never notice the flags, and the hint of evil in their eye

The knife goes in and you’re left high and dry

Now there’s blood spilling out and your fibers are torn

This is the type of thing you tried to forewarn

Once again you’re alone and you who are you to blame

It’s always yourself, what a cruel and unfair game

But darling, no one forced them to be callous

And it’s okay not to understand another’s malice

Decidedly, you take your heart’s pencils and add more lines

And from the hate, you form beautiful new designs

With no falter, you toss purples, yellows, and blues

No one ever again would diminish your bright hues

You wash off the smeared blood and expose the scars

You look at them lovingly, for they form who you are

Your masterpiece is far from being complete

So, Clementine, keep adding in colors and follow your own drumbeat