Grey Poem by Kaeim Latrom

It's the same white ceiling
and the same grey walls.
I don't know what I'm feeling
but it's grey as those walls.
I've been looking up at the sky
wondering how it'd feel to fly.
It'srather impossible,
so I just drop down my head and sigh.

It's a dirty city of grey smokes
and of noises and of crowds.
I'm a dirt-bag, a joke,
for the voices, grey as those clouds.
I'm laying on my bed again,
waiting for the grey clouds to rain.
So that I can pour all of me along.
It'll be just me, whimpering alone.
Under the white ceiling,
Inside the grey walls,
I hope I'm just dreaming.