Weak

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Sadness is a cloak

Engulfing,

muffling

    It is the clouds

Blurring, full to bursting with rain.

      It is gray, pale,

   Almost as if

           There is hope,

   A weak light

       Through the clouds.

But then

                                  it is gone.

               As hope always is.

     And the

                 rain starts to fall.

Like tears

                   of

                       sadness.

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