Slowly

[MCSmate]

This morning I woke up to
light leaking though the window
the curtains slightly parted
a crease lining their edges

The sky was not scattered with clouds
but instead carried a dreadful shade of gray
a white painted violent mess
as I watched the sun slip away

A harsh light soon crossed my eyes
a loud noise woke me up inside
a dark blur filled the void
and there soon came the lightning storm

[fishingthe_sky]

This poem has the potential to say a lot, but it's potential is not filled. What's the significance of the storm? Why is this worthy of writing a poem about? Is there some tension, some force compelling this to be remembered in verse?

I don't quite get "a white painted violent mess." There's not really enough here to justify the violence, which, if anything, only comes out when the sky becomes blue. It also seems to me like there's an incongruity with the time line of this poem: there's light in the first stanza, but then you don't really say that the sky became grey; rather, it was always grey to begin with, meaning there couldn't possibly be light shining through blinds necessarily, since the sun would already be covered. You mention being woken twice, and while you qualify the second time as being "inside," you don't pursue this at all. The speaker already seems fairly aware and awake inside, so if you're going to distinguish between two woken selves, you need to give us a reason to believe it. I'm also not sure what this void is; there seems to be no void to fill, or at least you've already filled it by the time you mention it.