The hiss of wet road meeting tread,
Wisps of fog reaching up to mother cloud,
Pin ****** of rain on windshield,
Twang of guitar joining with singer in song,
Morning grey surrounds me.

Pale yellow headlights meet me,
Whining as they pass,
Restaurants beckoning me,
Promising warmth food company,
Wipers warning me away,
Morning grey surrounds me.

Destination is known,
Sleep wants what it's owed,
Obligation is to be honored instead,
Fatigue is my companion,
Soon I will start to repay them,
Morning grey surrounds me.

Morning grey surrounds me...

Of colours in the air
Black is the darkness
and White pure light


Black the epitome of all draining sorrow
and emptiness

-Hollow

White the epitome of pleasure
and innocent delight

-Glow

Yet something always daunting
Remains to be seen
Laughing and taunting
The thin line between

Grey is difficult to [   ]
and life is *grey

Sunflowers turn their faces towards the sun
following its warm path as it rises and sets
soaking up the comforting rays
in the winter they wither
shriveling in the grey
trembling at the loss of their old friend
the sun.

People can't act like sunflowers
we can't live to soak up sunlight
directing our lives to follow its path
sleeping through the winter
hiding our faces until the return of the warm friendly light
that melts the snow and brightens up the dreary grey

Outside I must direct my life towards the path most productive
working hard so I can have a future
and so my family and my children can have a future
I can't follow the sun with my face
like the sunflowers

But inside I shrivel in the grey of winter
the long cold months that drag on
while the sun hides behind clouds and snow
I too tremble at the loss of warmth
of bright sunny days filled with happiness

Outside I am people
but inside I am a sunflower.

Dark, grey clouds loomed over the world, forcefully covering the sun and blue sky.
In a matter of seconds, the once warm afternoon turned into a cold and gloomy day.
The growling thunder in the distance gave out a faint warning.
Soon after, droplets of rain came pouring down, cooling the dryness of the world.
The passing cold wind made the overlooked warmth missed.
But the smell of wet earth was refreshing and nostalgic, and the sound of raindrops and water splashing were melodious.
The chilliness and cold air were friendly and welcoming somehow.

Grey, to me, was beautiful today.

Girls are from Venus and boys,
from Mars - we are strategically apart though we are both
made of stars. There are 6 other parts
to our solar system listed if you listen in class. People are not transparent
glass, we are not to be seen through and reduced
to white or black or skinny or fat or boys or girls. There are 6 other planets,
ten trillion undiscovered worlds
of grey. It is okay
to be something else, you are still

something else.

The bloodred Sun rises.
Misplaced souls and victims stuck in the upper parts of the atmosphere
giving the rays their ominous colour.
Blood particles risen from dead bodies float high in the air
painting the sky in orange-red.
Clouds form where humidity is highest, travel west
to a grey society, with hazed heads
where it rains Dead.
Blood reigns on our hands. Emphasis on reign.
Silently participating, masters of passiveness.
Shackled minds, broken chest
every infant born deaf
For sheep speak and think the word of the flock.
So wisdom's lost, past mistakes made will
eventually lead up to another rainy day.
This vicious cycle will stay the same
the climate acts according to our rainy ways.
For the smell of rain and the taste of blood
is ironically the same.