Gray Day
Nothing
But rain dripping deep and hollow
On the roof a heartbeat
Irregularly echoing
Nothing
But cold coffee in my mug
Reheated and forgotten and reheated
And forgotten
Nothing
But growling in my stomach
Yelling at me to be filled
Hotly knotted
Nothing
But the smallest of blood flow reaching my toes
Unnoticed at first with standing
Moments later, near collapse
Nothing
Published, but drafts of poems
Edited and waiting
Me delaying
Nothing
To do today but file away
The moments as they dribble past
Gray and drab
— by Me
Trees, Clouds, Gray Day by Tom Brown
sometimesihatemycat 
Captured the ennui, the greyness, the mournful state, perfectly
I am glad. I tried to write about other things, and just couldn’t, at least not with any perceived degree of talent or authenticity. So, I just wrote about the day and how I was feeling.
Captured perfectly