Miss Berry dreams in black and white,
In her small world that seems quite right.
A world of gray is too obscene,
And colors are all brash and mean.
She lives her life in a straight line,
One side or the other, and things work fine.
What does not fit, she will not know,
Her mind is closed and will not grow.
I tend to dream in shades of gray,
And try to find the middle way.
Between extremes of good and bad,
Are whole new worlds there to be had.
Yet dreaming in this mystic range,
There are some folk who think I'm strange.
They'll dismiss my dreams as such a bore,
And yet I know there's so much more.
For some have dreams in vivid hues,
Of brilliant reds, and flowing blues.
Life in dimensions few can see,
An alphabet that goes past Zee.
To secret symbols, secret plans,
that they alone can understand.
Dreams that show a truer light,
Than poor Miss Berry's black and white.