I used to strongly believe that you could never know too much
That no matter how dangerous a piece of information, it was always wise to touch.

But then the pieces became jagged and the sharply broken pained to grasp
And I suddenly was struck with the realization that nothing ever lasts.

These delicate little pieces of information I once so coyly sought out
Were now being traced as the infectious seed that caused this very drought.

No more smiles or rainbows, the red curtain has now been drawn
Or perhaps a curtain has lifted and I can see all the goings on.

And the scene isn't pretty. Whichever way you wish to look.
The sun was much brighter, when I skipped pages in this book.

But now that I've read into all there is and know just a tad too much
The facade is broken, and the glass pieces hurt to touch.

At the ripe young age of twenty, take or give a couple days
I've learned that ignorance is bliss and to never stare fully at the grey.

Tactfully draw the line where white meets black.
And never too closely analyze the grey.

For you may find out too much.


And it will steal your happiness away.