Rue.

There’s a story between the sky and I. Like the sun and her light. How the blue sky turns grey. I too have my days. Where I am unseen. I am unheard. Just a spec like the sun. All they see. Non come close. Revolving doors. Neither turn nor they know. The girl that’s for show. But the sky and I have a story. It let’s me blend with the blue. I, a silhouette of grey hues. Dark with rue. The sky makes a shade of blue. As I colour my grey with shades of light. The hour passes into night. So I stay and blend. While the sky and I come to an end.

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