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Nov 2020
The rain on my window has no idea that I think of it as fat unsalted tears, as I watch the flow from ashen discontented skies

It cannot think or reason why
I feel this way

About the foggy endless grey
that fills my head

The heavy sense of brooding and unsatisfying dread

Maybe tomorrow the sullen rain will drain away

But not today
Some days are just grey! I am not given to miserable poems as a rule but today...
Unpolished Ink
Written by
Unpolished Ink
  227
       Ghostfeather, Timothy, Azariah, Jena T, J J and 5 others
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