Grey

Outside of my window 

The sky is a bleak grey, 

But the trees are still a pale green 

And their branches still a pale brown, 

But the sky 

Turns away from its brilliant blues, 

Its light yellows, 

Its vibrant reds and pinks, 

And chooses 

Instead 

To go grey, 

A dreary sort of grey, 

Not the one that you would hope, 

Instead of a deep dark grey,

All we can see is a 

Pale, 

Dreary, 

Grey.