Down the Gray Street

I walk down this gray old street
No one to wave to
No one to meet
Newspapers and pebbles roll down the street
I see a crow on the tall lamp post
It makes a screech like it's trying to boast
I see a foreigner in a dark black cloak
He is standing right next to a tall white oak
It starts to rain down the old gray street
I open my umbrella in less than a heartbeat
The crow swoops down from it's tall lair
Dashing right for me like it's a flare
I see a statue of a tall old man
It's like it is moving, maybe it really can
I hear the thunder, I see the bolt
I run and run as fast as a colt
I get to my house and shut the door
I hope that never again will I be apart of that gray war

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I wrote this poem to symbolize how sometimes fear can really take control of us but you should always remember to talk about your fears so you can feel better.