Twisted Clouds
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Veiled by twisted clouds, the sun shrunk,
the sky turned purple black
and my hometown morphed into junk;
as though shredded by flack.
Trees got torn from the ground
and I cannot rebound;
for my home's now a mound.
The dead, draped in shrouds;
veiled by twisted clouds.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2021
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