The sun is as bright as always.
The same yellowy, blinding, light.
It leaves behind happy traces-
a mockery of me, out of spite.
The trees are as strong as always.
The same greenish, leafy, branches.
They leave behind peaceful traces-
unlike my energy, ****** out by leeches.
The clouds are as comfortable as always.
The same whitish, fluffy, softness.
They leave behind carefree traces-
as I doze, with a certain numbness.