my poetry/ Grey

Pretty pretty cloud

Seep up thunders and rain

Bolts and flashes intemperate

Round the sky in cloak rapt

Black black black

Sift her black pretty grey

A new white now, grey

This very hour mild in toil

Severed from that oracle

Not black nor white

Strange is grey, strange.

In annihilation of botches

Wipe this slate cleanest white

If white would still be white

While Eminem sings Kim

Drops of grey drizzle brim

Ride this cloud into hues blurred

The horizon of misty aftermath

As an unlit flame shimmers

This dusty bowl ashes grey

Shreds and pages of blank

Volumes of biased blanks

Pretty pretty grey

Is your melancholy.