The fog is an illusion—
A master of disguise,
Which hides the tangible
Before our very eyes.
But when the fog has lifted
Everything’s still there,
And the tangible
Only seemed to’ve disappeared.
In the early morning
Or late at night,
The fog descends
Upon various sites.
It gives an air of mystery
That has long prevailed.
Is the fog’s foggy veil.
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Comments about this poem (THE FOG by Walterrean Salley )
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