Perfect Pastels.

I open up the crayon box, the colors swirling together. As a child, we thought life would be like this forever. When we think of childhood, we think of peace. When we smell that smell that was there once before, the nostalgia fails to cease. If we look back on memories, our life has no worries. It's a perfect pastel past, but it passes way too fast. So back to the crayons, back until it dawns. Our perfect pastel past, arrives again in a snap that fast.