The sky is gray
Doesn’t make my day
In any way
I want the sun
I’m not the only one
Makes we want to eat cinnamon buns
I have a common disease
My appetite is one to please
My chilled thoughts to ease
Comfort food is a must
When ice and snow replaces dust
The gray and clouds are so bleak
Making my healthy resolve too weak.
***
https://chelseaannowens.com/category/terrible-poetry-contest/
The Bag Lady 
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