Grain, grain…go away

Blues melt into days end hues

Our hairs of the cross the last to see

The sky once smooth, become Grainy

The clouds drift in soft, white

To shield us from sun’s heat

And quench parched earth, raining

Pouring to fill another opportunity

Another broken day…

We keep trying to cleanse our hurts away

But the dirt of this sometimes wretched life

Just won’t wash away

Least not now, not today

(written by Beauty and her hot-as-fuck Beast❤️)

via Daily Prompt: Grainy

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