Above London, the sky is all the same colour
Never ending, greyer than grey
An uncertain breezes, drifts, lingering,
Hesitates, as if unsure whether it might pass.
The air is heavy, heady, with angry words
That went unsaid. The pent up fury
Is brewing over the chimney pots
Although the bright washing laughs
Strung from window to window
It doesn’t share the despair over the
Too grey sky that glowers
Like an angry headmaster’s frown.