Gray Skies Poem by bob barci

Gray skies.
Gray skies overhead.
White plane.
White plane moves across gray skies.
And --
Sittin’ here at Mickey D’s
outside it’s rainin’.
Oh Lord, it just started to pour
And what am I gonna do?
Can’t sit here all day
eatin’ chicken nuggets or fish filet.
Ponderin’ life’s complications
over a cold french fry.
While, outside, there are --
Gray skies.
Gray skies have opened up.
White plane.
White plane moves to drier climates.
And I’m still --
Sittin’ here at Mickey D’s
Wonderin’ if I
should take a chance.
Wander off someplace
without gettin’ drenched,
Or --
Stick it out here
with a hot apple pie,
a cup of coffee, and a B.L.T..
Oh, Lord, what am I,
What am I gonna do?
With --
Gray skies.
Gray skies overhead.
Wait till they dry up
and wish I were on
White plane.
White plane movin’ to a better place.