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#overcast
Even through the overcast, the Sun Shines Through, to me, this is a depiction that you will shine too. Don't let the Cloudy Skies, shade out your delight, let the Sunrays break through and let the Sun Shine Bright. The Sun will break out, and clear the Gray clouds away, and Leaving you with blue skies, and a sunshiny filled day. So, on your Gloomy Days, of dark clouds up on high, just be assured that through it all, The Sun breaks through dark skies B.R. Date: 4/1/2025
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Apr 1, 2025
Apr 1, 2025 at 2:57 PM UTC
☀️ Sunshine, through dark and Cloudy Skies ⛅️
Don't let the OVERCAST keep you from BREAKING THROUGH with that said: RELEASE THOSE SUNRAYS!!!
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Oct 26, 2024
Oct 26, 2024 at 5:47 PM UTC
Untitled
grey skies  metal heat        bakes away moisture          i'm cast over   pleasantly
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Aug 21, 2024
Aug 21, 2024 at 2:36 PM UTC
01111 11000
Sunday morning sluggish streets blink and whisper to themselves that there was sun, yesterday the jagged methadone of a bad night’s sleep giving all the weight none of the peace technicolour memories seem to be made false by this overcast sky so happiness lies in the old days a cigarette and a cup of coffee would smooth edges, in the good old days
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Sep 19, 2021
Sep 19, 2021 at 6:09 AM UTC
Streetfighter
When grey clouds Are always spilling over With the ebb and flow Of their seas   Those with soft hearts Will soak it all in Only to pour it back out A greedy catharsis Under overcast skies ©FaerieFoxPoetry
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May 19, 2021
May 19, 2021 at 4:20 AM UTC
Melancholy
I thank you, overcast, Though so many hold you in contempt, I say to you, dear friend, Those who are unable to find it within themselves, To pay you with the respect due, Shall never find appreciation in our universe. The glorious sunshine, The melancholic rain, The rampaging rage of the vicious storm, The frost and fear of the seeping, invading ice, None of them remind me that I am alive as much as you do. For you remind me that not all is sunshine, Not all is the chagrin of the rain, Not all is storm and violence, Nor is it the freezing embrace of death, No, the extremities of the seasons, the encompassing grasp of the weather, None remind me of the trials and tribulations, The brilliance and horrors, The humility of life, The chance, The pure, Mathematical, Plausibility of my own existence. It is you, overcast, My dearest and most reliable companion. It is you they shun, For they describe you as boring, Unmotivating, Dull, And I say to you, As I say to them, The depiction is wrong. Not everything is in the extremes portrayed by the weather, Nay, life is full of boredom, No one experiences life to its fullest, And those who think otherwise are fooling themselves. It is you, The greyness, The unmoving, The boredom, That reminds me I am alive, And will continue to live for however long I have left. I promise you this overcast, I will appreciate you, for you keep me breathing.
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Apr 14, 2021
Apr 14, 2021 at 1:44 PM UTC
An Ode to Overcast
blanketed in a polar cold woven by the hollow sun the hibernating hills dream of sultry days and the return of forsaken love
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Feb 15, 2021
Feb 15, 2021 at 11:37 AM UTC
wapiti winter
converging clouds create a celestial ceiling a disappearing of the sun's rays an ominous feeling of the revealing of the truth: the world's been packed into an intergalactic burlap sack, taken— and we are not coming back world-napped— never to be awakened. kiss us, but the prince is not handsome, we are alone, so no one will pay our ransom.
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Oct 2, 2020
Oct 2, 2020 at 9:39 AM UTC
Nepheliad
degree of overcast so the day begins and so will reman, the week predicted the same, only one variant, degree of cloudy, mostly, partly or just... **it saddens me deeply for I contemplate all the lives with this whether forecast, or rather, the absence of whether, the only variant, the degree of overcast** 9:34 AM Fri Jul 17 Year of the Covid
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Jul 17, 2020
Jul 17, 2020 at 10:09 AM UTC
Degree Overcast
_You are a sky of broken promises; In the early morning, bluer than blue, By midday, overcast with a shower on the way, As evening falls, I trudge home hunched against your cold rain, My trusty umbrella doing its best to shield me from my disappointment. Yet again._
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Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 5:12 PM UTC
Blue Sky Promises
Blue skies are optimistic, even when days are cold Grey skies are oppressive; they weigh heavy on the soul.
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Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 5:00 PM UTC
Overcast skies
Sky, overcast, mute, Crows left school,teach other birds, Hasty alternate
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Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 7:16 AM UTC
Change management!
no birds. no wispy feathers high in the sky. only layered smudges of ashen clouds with hints of deep cyan as far as the eye can see, the only pure light sourced from the few rays of sunshine filtering through, setting the world on fire. -l.s.
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Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 7:06 PM UTC
overcast
The day is overcast From an ogre blast Of the covert class Giving a motor mass About a potent past Building a molten mask To avoid the token task Of fighting the coldest clash To break our coated cast They only help If it's for wealth Then they stealth Once it's dealt Until they melt Into their belts Providing welts Prioritizing financial impunity Over helping their community Then asking for social immunity After all they do to me Being so rude to be Hopelessly glued to greed Until we are blue and bleed They kick up dirt and flee Into sandy eyes that plead But as far as I can see Vultures are flying free Over the uprooted trees Conquering overseas A manifest destiny They claim is for me They won't take a leap of faith Life for them is keep and take Saying let them eat cake Over the bones we break Because the serious stake Is our entire life's fate Yet they can't relate So we live in a state Of being an inmate Of their opulent hate So they can feel great Clouds cover the sky As clowns suffer and die Because we suffer from lies Of the ***** drawn flies Blocking the sunrise
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Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 2:54 PM UTC
Overcast
yesterday I asked the sky, why is it cloudy? again, this morning I'm still wondering why the sky is overcast I ran to the river then sat stunned leaves dropped away in the wind memory flows with the river in front of the eyes I ask again, will tomorrow still cloudy?
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Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 7:22 PM UTC
feeling lost.
rain against the rooftop, an old melody in my head, and a bittersweet taste against my tongue. early may’s rain falls quick and soft to april’s soft flower bed, and steals away the setting sun. it is with quick resolve and soft delay that i sit here, overcast, alone today. — a night in may
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Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 2:34 PM UTC
a night in may
forever looming clouding our hearts and our minds the shadow of doubt
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Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 10:51 AM UTC
Overcast (Haiku #60)
Pitter patter pelt Darkened clouds consume the light Sun isn't here now
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Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 7:58 AM UTC
Overcast
Tell me is it day or night The dark of dawn or dusk's dim light Where winds are still yet silence blows As steady as the river flows Shades of grey all blend to one A lost lament of love undone Moonlit mist or sunless shade Are all well, or all afraid. Tell me is life dark or light Tell me- is it day or night? |b.g.|
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Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 12:00 AM UTC
Overcast
Today is one of those days when your throat is sore for no reason and your voice scratches its way out of your esophagus; like an old CD, skipping, and stopping at certain intervals. Overcast, the sky is an apathetic shade of dolphin grey The pressure of the inevitable rain, pressing; holding you with the weight of the sun hidden behind. Today is one of those days when you cannot drag yourself out of sleep, even though you’ve slept for a day and a quarter. A day where you don’t want to eat, but you’re still shaking from the hunger and coffee and cigarettes are all that will do the trick. Sitting on the pavement, damp and wet. It hasn’t rained yet but we still never forget the way the cold feels against our jeans; smoking cigarette butts, discarded dreams. With old LCD screens out scratched phones shine signifying how broken our view of the world may be- but, clearly, we still see. As we take random pills we found and pretend we are high- we drink cheap liquor and curse at the sky. Sitting on the curb, in the literal gutter, Loitering’s a constant when you have nowhere to go. Walking for hours in rain, heat or snow, our lives in a bag, wearing the same clothes. Showering in a gas station sink, shoplifting to eat, the parks were our bed the bleachers our dining rooms. The shelter kicked us out for fighting that old guy and the soup kitchens didn’t feed us because we didn’t have the proper paperwork. Our skin is grey and pale as the sky, our eyes are full of light as our brain starts to die; but we are free, and we fly- “wild birds.”
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Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 6:24 PM UTC
wild
Today is one of those days when your throat is sore for no reason and your voice scratches its way out of your esophagus; like an old CD, skipping, and stopping at certain intervals. Overcast, the sky is an apathetic shade of dolphin grey The pressure of the inevitable rain, pressing; holding you with the weight of the sun hidden behind. Today is one of those days when you cannot drag yourself out of sleep, even though you’ve slept for a day and a quarter. A day where you don’t want to eat, but you’re still shaking from the hunger and coffee and cigarettes are all that will do the trick. Sitting on the pavement, damp and wet. It hasn’t rained yet but we still never forget the way the cold feels against our jeans; smoking cigarette butts, discarded dreams. With old LCD screens out scratched phones shine signifying how broken our view of the world may be- but, clearly, we still see. As we take random pills we found and pretend we are high- we drink cheap liquor and curse at the sky. Sitting on the curb, in the literal gutter, Loitering’s a constant when you have nowhere to go. Walking for hours in rain, heat or snow, our lives in a bag, wearing the same clothes. Showering in a gas station sink, shoplifting to eat, the parks were our bed the bleachers our dining rooms. The shelter kicked us out for fighting that old guy and the soup kitchens didn’t feed us because we didn’t have the proper paperwork. Our skin is grey and pale as the sky, our eyes are full of light as our brain starts to die; but we are free, and we fly- “wild birds.”
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41
I like the light overcast Its not too sunny or too dark Its just right The perfect amount of coverage of the scorching sun I hope you get the best of this and gave fun Because I know I will. Overcasts make everything much cooler
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Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 8:39 PM UTC
Overcast
*Overcast weather Rains have dampened the spirits Rescued by shared parasol*
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Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 9:29 AM UTC
Rains