365 Days of Poetry — Day 128

The rain falls up; the clouds sweep the ground.
The sun caresses the night; the moon greets every morn.
Don’t look now, but it’s all upside down;
The chic are now battered, forgotten and torn.

– Brittany Rose

Author’s Notes: This is blog post 250!!! Thank you for all of your continual support; you are a great part of how I have made it this far! And remember, you guys rock those shnazzy socks. (:

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