I catch glimpses of edges when mittens lie,
They coat in warmth and hang and cry,
It’s our tears that quicken pace not the red in face,
So why does the world stop with shades of grey?
Maybe if the clouds were coated with you,
The world would mellow and change to my hue,
Cause if I change myself, you’re the cause of it,
But I can’t change my world unless you’re it.