To Be White Again

Written by: Mark Goodson

Life at its beginning is white for all
Cleanly and perfect- singular in design
Warm fed and comfortable
But life through the ages tarnishes the white
Sometimes as sudden as a bucket of black paint
Drenched and permeated and you soak for days
You try to get white and clean but
There remains the tail-tell signs of grays and blues
Creviced in the minds and hearts of all who were in your studio 
Friends acquaintances family and strangers
Know and see the tartered canvas of white
More often than not a white with blotch
So who can make me white again
“Not be the hairs of my chinny chin-chin”
What can make me white again
“Nothing but the blood of Jesus”