I’ve learned

Life is grey, not black and white

We dream in color, but we end up in that

84 by 28 patch of dirt in the worm-holed ground

Dreaming of the dull vague color of our lives


I’ve learned

that if a tornado swirls through your little hometown

and uproots your house through that baby blue sky

you put on that little black dress the next day

and put on your shiniest smile

like you’re the leading star in Broadway’s premier show


I’ve learned

people always leave

even if you stay on the cold floor and beg

until your tired knees are

Black and blue from the stained hardwood floor


I’ve learned

that the sad feeling never departs

you’re stuck in the impossible labyrinth

Tripping on unyielding stones that leave

Lines of scarlet like height marks on a door


I can say that I have learned so much

Have I really learned anything at all?