50SoG (3): Little Black Letters.

Grey (3): Little Black Letters.

Little black words, on paling pages of white

He scours through them, scans for sense

They’re just letters, he thinks

But he’s looking too closely, he’s too tense.

 

He dreams up a verse, puts his pen to work

Slant goes his hand, and slant goes his sight

He meant to say something else entirely,

But what he penned down, gave much more insight

 

Now he’s writing as a hobby, never begins with a mission

He sees letters, but when the job’s done, he now sees words too

And sentences, and meanings- larger than he ever thought he’d be

Somehow it makes him look wiser than he meant to be

 

There’s infinite more wisdom, where this comes from,

He realizes, looking at the little black letters

His voice fails him, so he lets his pen loose

Listens instead, to the black ink as it splatters

 

Between the black and the white, he’s afraid to turn grey

So he whips up his own concoction of reds and greens

Tries to stay awake, falsely falls asleep

Only he knows what his mind has seen.

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