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Gray
Reflecting on times, ones perfectly certain,
Without shadows of doubt on the mind,
As though shining, waiting by black or white curtains,
As though truth were so easy to find,
So clear now it seems, contrary to say,
Such clarity is not in the slightest,
As black, surely, but one dark shade of grey,
And pure white, just another, the lightest.
Copyright ©
Braden Bordello
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