Appeared to be a normal day,
At our University of the Third Age,
Grannies and grandads writing epic lit.,
Forgot our hearing aids and blankets...
We walked away from the class,
Drank our coffees on the grass....
One old moll began this thing,
We cast off inhibitions and wedding rings,
Decided to have a greys' love-in,
One last winter's love fling,
Before hearses the morticians bring,
We were all senile, obese and ga-ga,
Our grey scrawny ***** made us ha-ha,
We gave those grandpas some thrills,
We all forgot our cardiac pills,
The old boys were gasping for breath,
Moribundi, close to death....
So, appeared to be a normal day,
On the grass, after class, at U3A,
Love-in amongst the greys,
It was grey liberation day!!!!

My days are grey, my nights are treacherous
I've spent so long sleeping but paranoid
Too many vices, I chose temperance

Vapid flings give way to the perilous
My slow conversations with life devoid
My days are grey, my nights are treacherous

One edge is straight, a knife, my preference
Trivial suffering makes me avoid
Too many vices, I chose temperance

I've cloaked myself, remain ambiguous
So, in midday, I have tempted the void
My days are grey, my nights are treacherous

No addiction equates to elegance
What is the point in a teen self destroyed
Too many vices, I chose temperance

With depression, I remain decorous
My mind flirts with bloodstains and carcinoids
My days are grey, my nights are treacherous
Too many vices, I chose temperance

The world, the norms, these people

Mechanized, synchronized, too perfectly fit,

Living corpses all around

Who know nothing beyond black and white.



“What about me?” grey asks.

Why is white peaceful, black ugly and grey oblivion?

I exist.

I do.

I am.

I have.


In the room of your mind where where the door is white and walls are black

Look at the colour of the ground under your feet.

It’s all me, it’s all grey.

Sit there and consume me,

Think about me, sleep with me

And you will  be alive.



Grey is confusion

Grey is chaos

Grey is a beautiful mess,

I am grey and so is my mind.

Sky's caged in bars of wire
But my God, it's still so
Beautiful.

Slumped against a city wall
In this ghost I call a
Home

Moldy bricks and jagged cracks
And gasoline rainbows
And construction orange
Mottling all the grey.

Keep writing, she thought;
Keep writing and eventually
You'll find something
Beautiful

Black is poetic
Black is a feeling
Depression,sadness, and pain
Black is the devil

White is purity
White is a feeling
Innocence, perfection, and safety
White is the angle

Grey is a medium
Grey is a feeling
Confused, emotionless,and sophisticated
Grey is me

Black, white, grey
Male, female, **me