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Page 1248

GREY DAY SPECIAL

The Eyrie Dancer Whose Feathers Are No Longer Violet
By Reggieman721

The grey, they say, arrives with age,
But when did I start getting old?
It feels like only yesterday
That I was dancing, smooth and bold.
It feels like only yesterday
That movement moved my throbbing soul.

For me, you see, the steps were free;
The magic didn't cost a thing.
With each flexed foot and bended knee,
Each flick of wrist and turn of wing,
I channeled inner energy
And opened up my heart to sing.

But now, somehow, I'm slowing down.
The beat begins to drag and stall
As music tapers, softened sound,
And in the darkened ballroom hall,
The pairs of dancers turn and bow --
The days gone by my thoughts recall.

The floor is worn, my muscles sore,
As diamond beads of sweat appear
And glisten fleetingly before
The lights go out, and all I hear
Is silence from the open door
Where swifter feet have disappeared.

I stay a moment on the stage.
My movements steady, smooth and bold,
I take a step toward glass display;
My new reflection I behold.
The grey, they say, arrives with age,
But when did I start getting old?

The Flower with Grey Petals
By Dragonstorm_75

The dismal sunshine streaked above,
Golden rays tempered with sorrow.
And yet it fit like a hand to a glove,
For the flower beneath the weeping willow.

The grey little flower, of ashen scent,
Drooped mournfully as if by burden.
Its leaves were withered in lament,
Indeed some had already fallen.

Meanwhile a newcomer did appear,
Eyes of burgundy and hide of grey.
The bulky form of the Chomby grew near,
She settled down and did not stray.

Suddenly she sought the flower,
And a sad little smile came to the scene.
"How pretty you are, and what a colour!
"You're the most beautiful flower I've yet seen."

The flower started with great surprise,
And shivered with happiness and glee.
Limp little petals rose to the skies,
And Grey Day no longer seemed dreary.

Drift (to a Grey Chomby)
By Larkspurlane

What consolation can you find
When days after days droop by
Like slow-wilting petals,
And morning awakens and night dies
Under the same grey cloud-piled skies?

What pleasures to take,
What glories to behold,
From your dim eyes almost shut,
Too weak and tear-filled
To see life's small blessings,
The snow's silent drift in
Soft heaps too white for words.

You think your race run,
Old Chomby grey-faded,
But today is just the ebb
And tomorrow is the flow,
Solace will be yours then,
Happiness, perhaps,
Redemption, or inspiration.

So watch the slow, sanctifying drift
From those breathing skies,
Each fresh fall a thousand times more beautiful
Than the last,
And remember, friend,
That no snowflake ever falls
In the wrong place.

Lamentation on Grey
By Mamasimios

This day is grey, or so you say,
A day you wallow in your own despair.
Well boo-hoo is what I say to you;
You do not know grey, not like I know grey.
No planet-dweller ever yet has felt the pain
That I have known, for I am Sloth, I stand alone.
You think because the clouds are looming --
Filled with showers dark and gloomy --
You think because it just might rain
That you know, that you feel, a soul's true pain?
You want grey? I'll give you grey!
Leaden meteors to fill the sky
To shower down, to make you sigh,
"Oh dear, I think it's begun to rain."
Bah, I tell you, you don't know pain!
You think because the sun is hiding
That all is hopeless and melancholy?
Grey turns to black in deep space voids
No suns, no moons, no asteroids,
No light at all to warm the soul,
No companion save metallic clone.
You want grey? I'll give you grey!
The evidence is here, I say!
There, it's there upon my comb,
Those are grey hairs that I have found.
And now who deserves to sigh and mope?
Begone now while I learn to cope.

These Grey Days
By Concertogreat_8

these grey days, in between the sun and moon,
where day cannot give up, darkness won't descend,
where water leaks in sorry drips from the sky,
to puddle on the concrete ground.

Neopia is bleached of vivid colour,
pigment leached from leaf and stem,
and spring relieved from step.

cold days, sad days,
lank days, grey days.

words well-wished fall on deaf ears,
and come from numb lips,
blown away on a nonexistent wind,
to a land where colour still thrives.

grievances wrapped in bundles,
lumpy packages on the sidewalk,
enmities left out to dry on the clothesline,
swinging in the tired air.

cold days, sad days,
lank days, grey days.

all the shades of the rainbow
are now just shades of grey,
where Neopia's sorrow and Neopia's tears
paint the sky at midday.

lost and left alone to wonder,
whispering at the door,
the happiness has gone and fled,
and left behind our dreary secrets,
for all the world to see.

Someone Certainly Woke Up on the Cheerful Side of the Bed...
By Cookybananas324

Hooray! Hooray!
Today is Grey Day!

It's everybody's favourite hue;
I just love stormy days, it's true!
I can't deny I feel a rush
Of joy to see a Grey Paint Brush.
The Frowny is my favourite Petpet;
Grey Cupcakes are the best treat you can get!
I use Grey Faerie Potions in the Battledome;
There's a Grey Wardrobe in my Neohome,
Right next to my Functional Grey Chair.
I use only Grey Conditioner on my hair;
I eat Grey Waffles for breakfast each day.
I simply can't see why anyone would say
That Grey Day's a day for angst and gloom,
To tell sad, sad stories and talk about doom.
So smile! C'mon, let's hear a cheer!
Huzzah! Hoorah! Grey Day is here!

The Grey Avatar... Sigh!
By Anjie

The world is not a rainbow realm,
It's shadowed with dismay.
A pelt or scales do not gleam,
When tainted, painted grey.
Dreary is the drooping gaze,
Neopia seems bleak.
It seems such work to lift your voice,
Such effort just to speak.

Does an avatar seem like
It's worth a world so dim?
With one flick of a painting brush,
Our world shall change, it's grim.
Grey Neopets in chorus chant,
"Our sorrow is our friend!"
Embracing misery seems strange,
Some just can't comprehend.

Embrace the world in shades of grey,
Forced smiles just mislead.
To be a pet in tones so bleak,
Seems unique indeed.
It's dull and lifeless all around,
No shimmer in the sky.
When misery doth clutch your soul,
What can you do... but sigh?

Another Delightfully Dismal Grey Day
By Mooneclipse

From near and far across the lands,
From Shenkuu, Meridell, and Faerieland,
From all around they come today
To celebrate the great Grey Day!

Sighing Cybunnies with their floppy grey ears,
Anxious grey Ixi, eyes brimming with tears,
Bleak, scruffy, old Lupes loping listlessly along,
And limp-feathered Pteris with their sorry songs.

All the grey pets with their sulky grey faces
Come to celebrate this day from far-away places.
And here are Kougras! Krawks! And Koi!
Their mugs are so stricken, so empty of joy!

And here are the JubJubs, shuffling so slow,
The weary grey Usuls with their weary grey bows,
The Unis' manes are looking quite limp,
With their vanity gone, they're too gloomy to primp.

At last the poor Bruces are last to appear;
Time for the party, though the mood is austere.
So the grey pets do shuffle, so gloomy and tired,
To sad, sappy songs, so dreadfully uninspired.

Drooping grey streamers and floppy balloons,
Are the only decor on this grey afternoon.
And when the dancing is all finished and done,
It's time for the food; that's sure to be fun!

Grey cupcakes, grey hotdogs, grey Doughnutfruits,
Grey pizza, grey sandwiches -- My, what loot!
The grey pets of Neopia eat, eyes almost agleam,
And at last, for dessert, how about grey ice cream?

As the party winds down and noon fades to night,
The grey pets depart with the final daylight.
Though their faces are grim as the murky dark sky,
Their footsteps are light and their spirits quite high.

And so ends this Grey Day in all its dim glory,
And with these last words so too ends this story.
Remember, whether you're pink, starry, or grey,
You're all welcome to celebrate
A delightfully dismal Grey Day!

Neopia's Lament
By Moulinrouge21

Among never-ending gloom, the pouring rain,
the Grey Faerie dwells wrapped in hidden chains.
Her lament will spread, like a sordid disease,
Passed by the flowing waves, felt by the breeze.

Skies close upon us, the sunlight has fled,
As hope hangs on, by one single gold thread.
The day drags on, mulling through the hours,
as the month does its job, with April showers.

The weather epitomising this sad day indeed,
Looks to the sky, for the sun they do plead.
Cowering beneath the clouds, which breathe anger,
Avoiding the dank underneath, the grave chamber.

Dragging her feet along the sodden ground,
The Grey Faerie weeps, her power is bound.
Her unbroken curse upon once living boughs,
Moods dragged down, they withstand somehow.

Evening has arrived, the chains start to rattle,
As silver moon bursts, through grey it doth battle.
A wisp of pearly light rains down from above,
As the 14th is ending, hearts refill with love.

Just Perspective
By _Razcalz_

As poems of
the grey variety are
wont to breathe their
tales in the lightless, the
night where woe unearths
meaning, so this one follows
suit: save for a pallid half-orb
slung high, nonchalant -- like
a slice of sunbeam forever left
behind. A pet beneath, of over-
cast fur and dismal eyes a-blur,
sees not a half-moon but a half-
black sky; not a gift of gold but
a mundane habitant of old. He
sees not the tunnel half-ajar
nor potentially waxing light,
but a powerless ember in
the otherwise charcoal:
and one that's most
likely waning
by now.

Thus
it's never
about the
colour,
but what
colours one
chooses
to see.

Lucky Find!
By Pansyparkinson14

Whilst travelling through Neopia,
You see upon the dew-ridden ground,
A sagging, pathetic object:
What is it that you've found?

On closer inspection, you notice that,
It oozes paint of a darkish grey,
Wait -- could it be a Grey Paint Brush?
Why, it's your lucky day!

But what shall you do with this lucky find,
Should you use it right away?
Should you paint your Krawk or Lupe
A baleful shade of grey?

Or should you sell it, this pricey thing,
And get a wee bit rich?
For it fetches quite a hefty price,
For something you found near a ditch.

Or into the Gallery should it go?
To display forever with such pride?
So that it can be enjoyed by all,
Envied, desired, and covetously eyed?

Whatever you choose to do with such a brush,
Possibilities, I can merely suggest,
But it goes without saying,
That the Grey Paint Brush is the very best!

Lament of the Grey Faerie
By Raezyr

In dreams, she soars on summer winds,
And tames each lofty breeze,
Over mountains, fields of green,
And gleaming, sunlit seas.

In dreams, no cage encloses her
With metal cold and hard;
Her freedom is her own dear right,
Not that which can be barred.

In dreams, contentment fills her heart;
Her joy cannot be bound.
In dreams, her soul transcends it all,
Finds happiness profound.

In truth, her wings are clipped and shorn,
Mere feathers, dismal, scant --
A token of all that she lost,
With no more flight to grant.

In truth, her view of stormy sky
Is rent by bars of black.
A stark reminder of the life,
The love, the hope, she lacks.

In truth, her heart is shackled, chained,
No longer can believe.
In truth, she's lost, and all that's left
Is strength to softly grieve.

To Sail the Grey Seas
By Tealnova_dragon

The melancholy beauty.
Her life is drained away, her heart is heavy.
Her soulful eyes are staring -- adrift in the distance,
Perhaps thinking of better times,
Times when the seas were clean,
The water sparkling, the seashells coral pink.
But now the world is just as grey as her smooth skin.

The sombre beauty.
She dreams frequently, mourning her memories.
Bejewelled tail wrapped round her protectively.
Her ancient past buried within the sands of time.
Her wild mane flutters in the wind --
Just wispy strands of delicate grey.

The downhearted. The grey.
She tours the dirty seas, the misty oceans.
Searching, searching for something.
To lift her dismal heart.

So one night, if you happen to be on a boat,
If you hear the soft cries of a Peophin,
It's her -- the Grey Beauty --
Forever doomed.
Forever looking for happiness, perhaps a rainbow, to paint the grey away...

A Grey Celebration
By Geneames1

Everyone give a disheartened "Hoorah!"
Join in the sad celebration.
Today we observe a dim, dark event --
It's Grey Day in our woeful nation!

The grin on my face will be muted;
The spring in my step will have sprung.
The gleam in my eye isn't gleaming;
The song in my heart won't be sung.

I'd laugh, but that would be too jolly.
I'd smile, but that would be too bright.
I'd cheer, but that would be too happy,
And joy on this day isn't right.

So pull up a seat and put head in hand,
Proclaim in a woebegone tone,
"We're Grey, we're okay, you don't like it, so what?
Go away and just leave us alone!"

Anti-Grey Day
By Notonetobequiet

Good morning!
What a splendid day it is!
Rain pounding on the window,
Wind howling in our ears!

What is this nonsense I hear?
No, I do not mean the wind,
I mean this pitiful melancholiness!

Ridiculous you are
To let this Grey Day influence your mood;
I mean, look at me,
Spreading the cheer!

What's that?
You believe I'm crazy?
I swear that I am not;
I am merely trying to aid
A sad soul.

So, if you please,
Get on your feet.
Perhaps walk with me to promote
Anti-Grey Day!



Total Poetry Pages : 1867

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