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Gnarled, thin fingers claw at the sky; Sun rays hide shyly behind thick clouds, peeking at their leafy admirers. Perpetually rooted to the ground, the light taunts them; giving life, but damning them to immobility. There will be no air dancing for them. The only cloud they’ll taste is that which lies low, a fog miserable as a sponge. Earth’s star fades in the distance, mimicking their tragic dreams.
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Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 8:05 PM UTC
Fog
Gnarled, thin fingers claw at the sky; Sun rays hide shyly behind thick clouds, peeking at their leafy admirers. Perpetually rooted to the ground, the light taunts them; giving life, but damning them to immobility. There will be no air dancing for them. The only cloud they’ll taste is that which lies low, a fog miserable as a sponge. Earth’s star fades in the distance, mimicking their tragic dreams.
cheyenne-baker
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Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 8:05 PM UTC
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