and post notes and photos about your poem like Edward Ibeh.
Not my kind of day, at all; this one
No siree! Grey clouds broodingly hang
above, and a sad heaven is about to cry.
Nimbostratus clouds throw me a shade.
The trees blot out a bright morning sun.
Fruitful expectations sprouted...
barring a multitude of ripe hopes,
but unforgiving fire did rage...
and reduced them to rubble and ash.
It is unmistakably a gloomy day.
Even mockingbirds are refusing to sing.
All I wanted to go right has gone wrong.
Copyright © Edward Ibeh | Year Posted 2019