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Grey
I stare out at the earth of grey, boxes in which drones dwell,
Useless inventions that God gave the gift of free will,
Marching in groups, never tiring of their chore,
And overhead lurks the cloud of all that we endure,
The pain and suffering can be seen in the corner of every eye,
And the darkened streets and cities cannot hide this lie,
Although this place is dismal, there is nowhere I’d rather stay,
Than on this bitch of an earth, on this earth of grey.
