Will you hold hope for a blue sky even when the gray is endless?

All she sees through the window is blue,

Even as the rain pours and the fog clouds the Earth.

An echoing memory of a color she longs to see,

A feeling she longs to feel.

The sky has long turned to gray and soon it will be dark,

But she sits on her windowsill and imagines

What it would be like to walk over the clouds,

Leave the graying world behind,

And see the colorful sky hiding above.

She can see the blue of the sky,

The blue of your eyes,

Even when they aren't there,

Far away, hidden.

She tricks herself into believing a reality

She's construed in her head.

Hope for a blue sky,

Even when the clouds weigh down and the rain pours endlessly,

Is rare.

And yet she sits on her windowsill,

And she hopes that the sky will turn blue eventually,

She hopes that the night will come

and when the sun rises, so will the clouds.

The only color outside the window is gray,

But, she'll still see the blue

Because it's all she has left of the sky,

And it's all she has left of you.