I emerged from the gravel pit of yesterday unscratched,
Though my colors were stolen in the chunks of gray.
I fought for as long as I saw fit,
But the lure of a concrete tomorrow has a sturdy grip
And I lost my rainbow pallet.
The concrete tomorrow has no hope for hue,
But at least the onward is smoother now,
Less caked in ruble and discursive stone
So willing to steal away personality.
Everything seems better in a concrete tomorrow.
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