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Cloudy
Rainy days,
lazy daze
where the sun hides
behind a white canvas,
too lazy to
impress.
I could take a pink
paint brush,
paint the sky
a million colors.
But it is cold behind
the glass and
warm beneath the covers,
raggedy hair on the floor,
looking up
at the rain falling on
the windowsill.
There is nothing to do,
nowhere to be,
but here,
heart beating,
tears falling,
blanket on blanket,
white on white.
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