It’s not good and evil, not black and white

It’s blank. It’s a blank piece of paper.

Here, listen

You see a man steal her purse—you think that’s

black

But later, him feeling guilty, regretful

It’s a shading of gray on the paper

A lightening

A man helping an old woman fix her tire—

white

That same man rolling a stolen hubcap across his floor

Shaded gray on the paper

Everything’s a shade, from the

mass murderer

to the

mercy killer

to the

to the

to the

All of their lives are on the paper

Colored in grayscale, some darker than others

But none

Pure

And none

Opaque

How dark is yours?