there is a subtle flow an undertow created where the world around me and the books begin calling a sandbar of my own emotional misinterpretations mangled by a lack of vernacular affinity a vortex, a whirlpool, a tear pulling the beauty from the inspirations until all becomes gray a succulent buffet, an array of sensual […]
it is all gray grey dimmed demure distressed the entire world blanketed by clouds in a state of never ending storms unpossible to tell if it is the artificial lighting or the sun desperate to show it’s face it is all gray grey shuttered solemn stupefied it isn’t the end of the world just the […]
the gray clouds threaten but just hang in malaise over the day like the stern look of disapproval from an old man watching children play at the park
Mike's Manic Word Depot 