Grey Area


They asked me to pick a side.

It's us,

or them.

I tried to see

which was right,

and which was wrong.

But I couldn't.

Both sides seemed,

the same.

They became impatient,

demanding I choose.

I searched each one

for a glimmer of evil.

But found none.

So I tossed a coin.

I watched it flip


and around,

until it landed

heads up.

So I stood with a side

that was no better than the other.

And oh how I wished fate

had never made me chose.

slam poetry
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