Just some writing on the bathroom wall

That I read, everyday of high school,

Something untrue about someone that I loved.

I tried to scratch it off one day,

But etched so deep,

Nothing I had with me could disform

The scrawled out words.

I tried to redact it with a black marker,

But you could still tell

Exactly what it said.

So I left it be,

And the effect it had on me

Is that I don’t believe too much

I see written on the bathroom walls,

Especially about the people that I love,

But even things about my enemies.

There are two sides to every story,

But more than that,

We are a part of all of it.

It’s hard to see,

But if we could stop for a moment 

And try,

We’d have a lot more peace.

I remember being glad at graduation 

That I’d never have to read these small-town

Bathroom walls again,

But the big city stalls have even more angst

To read and comprehend.

There are always two sides to the story,

At the very least!

But if we could see past them just a bit,

We could let go,

And have a little peace.

-jenn