On a clothesline

I am a tee hanging on a clothesline
Clothespin of sorrow detaches me from the ground
I watch as the flower grows, and the grass withers
It is a carpet of lacquered green
Spots of bright reds and yellows scattered
I’m a grey that blends with the clouds of anger
I watch as heaps of fluid blemish their gleaming colours
But their skin is a varnish resisting tears from the sky
And I am a cotton soaking oceans from above.

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