Black and White
I grew up in a home that was so black and white,
but mostly white because we were taught to hide from the dark.
I've spent every moment since I walked out that door
trying to crank the dial on life's saturation up past max,
desperately trying to compensate for all of the colors that I missed.
At an age, young enough that I can't recall the exact number,
I was told that I could lose my place in the family,
through the wrong color.
You see, I didn't yet know that there was a wrong color,
especially a wrong color to love.
I still, don't know, that there is a wrong color,
I haven't found it, and I've experienced a lot of colors.
I wouldn't go so far as to say I've been looking for it,
but I've certainly been trying every color on until I find it.
I left my father a six-pack and a letter,
asking him to start drinking before he starts reading
when I finally decided to try on the rainbow.
You see, I wasn't trying to cause a problem
but as I said, I only know black and white.
I'm trying to clear up all of that gray area
and the thing about cleaning things up is,
sometimes you get your hands dirty in the process.
So I'm now elbows deep in the process
and I promise you I'm not going to stop.
When the space is clear,
I'm going to paint this room every color
that I learned to love.
Every color, because I learned to love.
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