Clouds are so perfect
though not so geometric
as the wind carves them.
Clouds rest in the sky
floating on the color blue
while pushed by the cold.
Such fluffy texture
splashed in a vanilla white
looks odd from down here.
They are only blobs
a bit plain but satisfies
imagination.
YOU ARE READING
CLUCK NO
PoetryA collection of both emotional and humorous poems about growing up and other frustrating parts of life that'll sound alright in your head, but just plain stupid out loud. !!!WARNING!!! This is not a compilation of chicken poems.
