A child is taught to color a book
By keeping the marks within each space,
And with care fill in the nooks
So just the expected form takes shape.

 Is our destined course too often set
For what we’re to do and when?
Restricting the way, to not let us forget
The boundaries we are to stay within.

 What lines it's said must not be crossed
Are often drawn in heavy ink,
Which keeps us from becoming lost,
Or those who draw them so may think.

 Are we so captive to the narrow path,
The borders of which may not even exist?
Is the fear of defiance too much to get past,
Not daring to cross the edges of it?

 When feeling trapped in our constraints
Which seek to control our every step,
Remember the  urge to cross the paint
Requires less effort than one might expect.

  So the joy of each ascending day
Should not be obscured by thoughts benign
For as you travel on your way
Sometimes you must color outside the lines.