Halls, Walls, and the Fall.

When we're young
We all craft bricks
To build a great city,
And raise our walls.

We spend time carefully
Choosing a brick
What color will
Be decorating the halls?

I was no different
Choosing my bricks
Until I was special
I had more colors than most

Yet I took too long
Selecting too bright,
too flamboyant, and now
I've nowhere to host.

And so I looked around
Seeing others with their
Bland, but complete cities
How I envy their coin.

What have I to return to
Just a ground of broken hopes
Many unique, strewn colors, but what
Use are they, if they are not joined?