Grey. The grey of my childhood. The grey of a cool mist, Of death in the air.
Frost on the teasels, Cold crystals clinging to blades of brown grass. Time fades away like a stain, Disappearing with age.
Sitting on a bus, I slip in and out of the past like a wave, Lightly licking the pebbles On a colourless beach.
It is an empty world, Never more so than now. Forever grey, Where is the sun?