Grey Poem by Amy Carr

Exhausted, I lean against
a wall, spotted with posters
and names I can’t read—
a sea of fading colors
and half-words sprawling
and stretching along the sidewalk.
The cool, wet concrete presses
into my face, branding me.
But it soothes, so I don’t care.

Raindrops run down my face;
and to my closed eyes the
drops have a color…Like blue-grey
ink dripping slowly down my
cheeks to my chin, and falling.

Invisible blue-grey ink-tears
cried by a grey sky.
And I imagine what I look like—
A solitary figure in grey leather
leaning against a wall,
smiling slightly.