Editing the Script of Life

Has our union become mundane?

While your life is colourful,

And mine dramatic,

When we are together,

It is akin to a black and white silent film,

With only shades of grey that fall on our vision,

And none of that exciting kind.

Is there no gold pot at the end,

For there is no rainbow to call ours?

Or is this one of those classics 

That people die to get their hands on

But we can’t appreciate

Because we have yet to try

Sitting down through one reel of film

Will we last that long?

Or will we walk away before the credits roll in?

Or even before the first dialogue is vocalised?

Or can we try to change the scene,

To adjust the play we’re in

To fit our purpose

Our scenery

Our perfect ending?