It is of course inevitably pointless,
to reverie in what could have been
and what couldn’t.
The earth’s rotation imparts
swirl of gyration of emotions within.
Two-faced orbital individuals have me
shifting attitude like magnetic needle
in a fluctuating altitude.
Made in the purest of form,
50 shades of grey,
50 shades of ashes;
two colours only
like binary digits
have them giving birth
to 50 shades of race.