A dreary day can make a bad thing worse
And turn what should be good a little grey;
It's like the day itself acts as a curse
And turns your purpose and your act astray.
It isn't that the color of the day
Mirrors your mood, but rather that it sneaks
A little of itself into your way
Perhaps dimming the rosy-colored cheeks,
Or making hours feel like days or weeks,
Or simply turning every deed awry
A little bit. So unkind weather wreaks
Revenge for unknown sins on us. And I
Am smack in such a day - but know, with aid,
I can repel the feelings it has made.
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