existence.

"Sad stuff makes beautiful poetry, but it's not so pretty to live with." [-Merecat]
*For the Dear Diary Competition*
(I recommend anything beyond 'Tumbling Ash' for the rest is a mess of nonsense words that hold no character, no story and absently fill the page)

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1. Diagonal Water

 

 

Today, was just as bleak as

yesterday.

Grey. Grey. Grey.

The sky. The sun. The cars.

Grey.

 

We had rain which was not grey.

It came on and off,

like it was controlled by a switch.

It came pounding in slanted lines.

Light, so you could only see the water drops on the window

and the little spikes in the puddles.

Then heavy, heavy, heavy, heavy.

So heavy that the roads flowed and the red

of the bricks turned light brown because

they were damp. Everywhere was damp.

 

After the diagonal water,

it was silent. No more wet.

The field from my window has

lots and lots of trees in the back.

I never noticed all the green.

Dark and light and medium and emerald

and then one tinted-white tree that peeked

like it was waving hello.

 

And I looked at the clouds,

a mix of light grey to dim grey,

and saw them move. Fast.

Like they had somewhere to be,

like they were in a rush to just go

back around in a

circle.

And then, a few minutes later,

the clouds had found their destination and the

sky was just flat.

Just a flat colour.

 

All the lawns and the trees

and the flowers and moss and

bushes and sprouting grass,

looked a little brighter after the rain.

One tree outside is red.

Well, a deep mix of darkening pink and cherries

and crashing cerise. I like that tree.

 

I like the rain in my street.

Because everything is very defiant.

The nature doesn't want to be damp

and bleak.

It wants to be vibrant.

And even though it looks like

dreary winter,

it's certainly summer

according to the leaves.

 

-Tuesday 19th May 2015

 

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