Fog

Crisp air tainted white

Hanging over the morning

The past obscure

The future obstructed

Bitchy Angels scream at the sun

Pinching the clouds with thunder

Wondering where yesterday has gone

Lamenting about everything

A fog ascends

Erasing reality

Washing the future and the past away

Bitchy angels descend

She says in that smoothing voice

She is perfect for you

The timing wasn't right

She was you years ago

The angel tilts her head slightly

Fading as the fog burns away

Memories lingers

The future is bright yet tainted