Img_4870by Hazel Thomas27 Nov 2016

Sometimes when the clouds turn to grey
There are no pretty words
To write away
The sadness raining down.

Like the steamy windows of a bus
Travelling slowly through the cold
It's a blurry barrier between two worlds
Surrounded by chaos of the young and old

It's the foggy mind that aches
and spreads itself round and round
Until it settles in the chest
Where tightly it sits waiting
For the tears to well up
So they are compressed