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The Color Gray

Gray is fog, mist,
Something unwanted,
A moist cool overcast day
A bad Monday when you
Know something bad is going to happen.
Your car reluctantly starts only to stumble and stop,
Choking smoke protruding from the engine,
You walk on the cold hard concrete sidewalk to work,
A sharp wind suddenly blows your hat off your head,
The fog swallowing it up,
Then, drip… drip… dripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdripdrip
Your suit is now one shade darker than it’s original one,
As you trudge through dirty puddles
An unseen bump in your path causes you to trip
There’s now a tear in your dress pants and
Papers go flying,
Some dogging raindrops, others landing in puddles smearing the dark ink across the
White paper.
One note has written on it in bold:
IMPORTANT CONFERENCE TODAY! BE EARLY!!
The pigment in your skin deserts you as
You gather your fallen papers and
Hurry off into the mist,
The fog around you swallowing you up.



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