Monday, January 18, 2010


Black is kind, it covers up
the run-down street, the broken cup.
Black is charcoal and patio grill,
the soot spots on the window sill.
Black is a feeling hard to explain
like suffering but without the pain.
Black is licorice and patent leather shoes
Black is the print in the news.
Black is beauty in its deepest form,

the darkest cloud in a thunderstorm.
Think of what starlight and lamplight would lack,
diamonds and fireflies, if they couldn't lean against Black...

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