Older, wiser?
Where did all my certainty go?
I thought as I got older
I would know more,
I would be more sure.
Yet here I am
Your black
Keeps mixing with my white
I feel I am left
In darkness muddled grey.
I couldn’t live in black and white
But grey
Seems to tear me apart.
And I worry
God,
What if you only accept purest white…
© Rosalie Miller 2006