As I lie in bed with tired eyes,
I look up at the pale lit sky,
A colour so constant in full view,
Grey-ish tones with jaune-ish hue,
This monotone,
Comforts me,
A feel of familiarity,
Compared to any other night sky,
This would shout,
Normality,
Foreign skies,
No matter how star-filled or full of wonder,
I'm born and raised,
Forever a Londoner.
So as I go to bed,
With tired eyes,
I know I'm home,
With yellow skies.
