The Sky is Falling

Today, there is no sky.
Low hanging clouds
and ever-present mist
give the illusion of
cardboard cutout buildings
pasted to Damask backdrops.
Stick, crayon-drawn, trees
are smudged into the cloth.
The space which used to seperate
here from there has been compressed.
Paper doll people try their best
to take form in this
two-dimensional world
but find little hope
of standing out,
so they huddle inside
and dream
of substance.