There’s something to be said,

About clouds.

Floating around in the sky,

Far beyond reach.

For there is beauty,

In what we cannot touch,

And only see.

And something novel,

In a thing of dreams. 

 

Sometimes I wish I could be a cloud,

Be something that is no more than a wisp in the air,

Something of speculation,

Of shape,

And a object of childhood fantasies

Of living in a cloud,

Far away from worldly struggles.

 

I’d like to be that escape,

That daydream of childhood notions

Of joy, and laughter, and hope.

I wish above all to be this cloud,

To be that escape for myself,

Away from worries and trials and tribulations.

And FREE