His chequered shirt
Black and White
Lines of Black
Defining blocks of White
No crease in sight
It was all sorted right
In Black and White;
It was Black or White.
She was his thought astray
An aberration he'd say,
No place for that streak of grey
Could fastidious men ever sway?
He looked at her yet again;
"May be yes, may be not,"
It was neither Black nor White;
She just didn't fit this block or that.
This streak of grey would reiterate
To visit often as a stray thought.
