Clouds
Low cloud.
Imagining sunshine gives me a headache.
Woke up too early,
now I am late, Fooled around with words
for far too long.
The sky -
it's lower than my head.
Walking on four letter words,
feet too heavy for mud-lurking.
Ever sing the blues
when there is no blue around,
get my drift?
O those 'darling buds of May',
will they ever blossom?
So many questions,
and yet no breakfast.
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