lara Aug 1
my days are full of sunshine
bright and hot rays
not a single cloud
in heavenly blue sky
and here I am
despite all the light
finding comfort in the dark
want to keep dancing in the rain
under a grey cloudy sky
Mary Frances Aug 1
Sky
You are my sky,
my tranquil type of blue.
Whenever I gaze at your beauty
you put my heart into bliss.

You are my sky,
my unique and exquisite hue.
At times you may be dark and grey
still, your essence is true.
A lone gray cloud
in an ocean of blue
surrounded by patches
of rolling white foam
just looking for
a shoulder
to cry on
green grass paved in grey cement
red hearts burned with grey love
blue skies polluted with a
lovely hue of factory grey
white winter wonderland
faded into January grey
black charcoal ignited
into grey embers
yellow sun clouded with
grey thunderstorms
purple flowers entwined
in grey vines
orange glass ashtrays pile up
with grey ashes
brown cigars reduced
to grey smoke
the knife is grey
the poetry is grey
the beauty is grey
the housewives are grey
their children born grey
their laughter is grey
the landscapes are grey
the architecture is grey
the kindness from strangers
is grey
their mental disturbance is grey
the violence is grey
the wings on a butterfly are grey
everything and everyone
have turned grey
and the grey moon
illuminates the night sky
while there’s nothing shocking
left for the world,
this is it,
it’s all been said and done
but if you have the ability
to burn brighter
like a marigold
or a sun droplet
or a gulp of amber wine
you could make an impact
on a vividly grey world
and meanwhile,
the only impact
I’m going to make
is my grey matter
with the ground
either from a
drunken stupor
or a suicide from
the top of the
highest building
where I can see
you spread your
beautiful feathers
and soaring higher
beyond the horizon.
Grumpy grey sky stares,
At the conquered water world;
Armies of clouds roar!
Lynnia Jul 17
Here I peer through blood and mire
A river of tears ‘neath a twisted tree
The gentle calm which I desire
I would never have, despite my pleas
The hasty stream ignores its load
My wishes gone with the grim dry breeze
I keep it close, though I can never hold
The truth of which would set me free
Kylie Jul 14
I hold the memory and nothing more,
for a while I wasn't sure,
if it were real, I wish it was not,
but it pollutes every thought of mine,
with painful fear and anguish.

I remember the white walled room,
thats all I saw, but not the surface of what I felt,
I felt the destruction of maximal agony and torment to life,
and at seven and a half I was an adult.

You decayed my trust in people,
and of the fate and stars,
I can't say anything anymore,
how I wish to see you in bars.

bars like the shackles you gave me,
holding me tight with nothing,
I keep it all a secret,
and I wish not,
for it will determine your gritty end.

for you killed me, but i'm still alive
Kylie Jul 14
I can't obtain  with any corner of my mind why I feel cynically ingrained in a black hole, in a blazing bright room full of glee, spirit and bliss, but I see grey.
grey like the shallow pavement,
grey like the sluggish clouds waiting to rain on below,
grey like a sun withered elephant skin,
grey like a fallen moon.
The pencils pointy and fine lead matches my jaded soul, grasping for light under the shadow of the darkened sun, waiting for the lights to turn out.
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