White walls so plain like myself afraid of change scared of a little color.
So dull, so much the same, bound from the outside world, so many tears cried behind these walls; so much heartache; so much fear locked under these walls.
If white walls could talk; what would they say? They say how much they hurt, how they wish for something better, how they know they are not accepted, all the dreams they could tell all the nightmares they have lived.
How many wishes wished for; all their emotion tucked away under the seams; how much hate they have for themselves.
If white walls could speak do you really think you could let them talk and actually listen to what they have to say, and even grow to love their true color.
"So many colors it takes to make white"