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gray
“When the day is gray, I am not very gay. We've never quite thought we'd ever feel this way. To the cliche that the people will say. The sky is crying alongside me, it seems as if this pain will remain. Not to our knowledge it was the bed you made, from now on you'll forever lay. To the broken eyes with wilted hearts, to the face he portrayed with a longing gaze. As the wet eyes trace the walls that contain many frames. To the strong man, you’ll forever portray. My love to you and the same as our blood. I’ll never forget the silence that followed a thud. For this day is gray and I am not very gay.”
-hj
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i wrote this piece this morning(12/14/23) the day after my uncle died. when I first was told it didn't really hit me and I felt kind of numb. our families have always been so close. i woke this morning with the same feeling however when I walked outside on my way to school it was very rainy and it reminded me of a poem my grandfather had written when he was a senior in high school. we have an inside joke of "when the day is gray I am not very gay" simply because of today's new ideals. my heart sank and once I got to class I immediately started writing. it was something simple and I'm sure I could have done more but that's not something for right now, but I was still very proud of what little I had done. so here it is!