By Andrew R. Duckworth
Sleep deprived in a dead gray,
Time sprints and fades away,
Opening and shutting shutters,
Remembering harsh words uttered,
Making harsh judgements on self.
Waning joy and in comes the rain.
Alert the alarms! Avert the pain!
Raining down those pelts that stain,
Narrowing the doorway of escape.
In comes the clouds, gray skies abound.
Never listening to rational sound,
Giving a soft cry and hoping I’m found.