To pour out
Its golden hot oranges
And fiery flaming reds
But dreadful clouds
Claimed the sky
And obscured
The warm rays of the sun.
Most of the time
I see the clouds
Behind the sun
And my days
Are like the sunflowers.
When the clouds
Patched the sky dark
I am inclined
To paint the world
With gray.
Copyright 2017, Rose Marie Juan- Austin, All Rights Reserved
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