Tufts of white in the sky
Change shape by the second
A friend
A unicorn
A different world
The skies above are uterly clueless
They only seem to look up towards space
Sometimes they see the world below
Tufts of clouds in different shapes
Is it a hand?
Maybe it's a flower blooming out to them
The skies don't know
What likes above the clouds and
Below the skied might just be a like
Or the truth
Yet they soar above
Believing what they imagine
