Black and White

Lying in bed just scrolling, scrolling ‘til I can find something.

Something to ease the pain, something to help me let go,

But traveling deeper and deeper into the abyss the more I know.

Those words feel shallow, meaningless: love is hate and hate is love,

Hearts and thumbs representing who I am, me,

With the small numbers I receive, I could never be free.

I stop and look up to see a musty antique,

I flip the pages and start to read.

Feeling the rhythm, I’m stuck in time,

On one page with a quick rhyme.

All the words given to me under the blue light,

Could never be close to what I receive in black and white.

Feeling the pages with my soul uplifted,

I realize how society has been drifted.

How can so few words save me from the world’s despair?

For once it seems someone is there.