Analysis of 3903 Herron Avenue

Grayer was them olden days;
the clouds came with frequent rain,
 the sun, baffled,
bulwarked by the hanging drab.
I’m open now;
parading guts, long misplaced.
The dread brewed
beneath my skin.
The rain beating on my casing
fashioned a duskier gray;
the clatter is sickening.
My mind streamed brown
like the Ohio River,
flung against contemplations, then crashed.
Yesteryear was more severe;
I’m twisted to fit these cracks,
but I’m geared up to go.
Let me rest my weary bones;
let me die now,
if this is it.