My first post to this site! A poem I wrote a while ago; I don't consider poetry to be my strong suit or my main interest by a long shot, but I like this one. I hope you enjoy; constructive criticism and comments are always welcome. Thanks for reading.


I often wish that things could be black and white. 
But they can't. 
Because everything is gray. 
And gray can be beautiful,
But often it is not. 
It is frustrating
Because gray is complicated.
And we are complicated. 
Gray is the ability to do everything
And yet not doing anything 
Because how are you supposed to know what happens next
If things are gray? 
If I had a paintbrush
And two buckets of paint—
One black and one white—
I would paint everything in neat patterns 
Of lines and stripes,
Diamonds and squares,
All in black and white. 
And once I was done,
I would pick up the phone
And talk to you again.


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There's more where that came from!