Justice S. Gray

Unnamed, Anonymous

Gray

The dim gray window bathes, In the tears of the ash gray clouds, The children’s rooms are bare And no longer loud.

The smell of apple pies, Now flees from the kitchen, Laughter from the family room Now fades out and ceases.

I sit alone watching the silver clock, The hands reach out And cover my eyes. The darkness becomes A haven from fear.

I see you standing In a sea of isolation, Searching for me. I call out your name But you can’t hear,

You can never hear me, Now that we live In different worlds. Unable to be close, Like we were before the