It is a grey day,
no colour,
no light.
It is overcast,
at the behest of winter,
it is bleak.
There is no life,
no rain,
no wind.
It is dull,
people mope,
it is sad.
Uneventful,
solemn,
and boring.
We wait,
for the sun to shine,
or for the clouds to burst.
Anything,
something,
patience is wearing thin.
Day after day,
there is no relief,
of winter’s monotonous personality.
No colour,
no light,
it is a grey day.
Lewis Walddren 