Cloud Iv Poem by Mason Maestro

Rolling in with an encompassing form
All taste is lost in this crowd I'm alone
I have it all, yet I'm anguished
In some form of setback thats been relinquished

Somewhere in between Brussels and Munich
I've lost my own appetized throw-over tunic
It's been quite some time now, and its grown old
The ones all around me are hungered, and I'm cold

With half a chance I'd beat it down to the ground
Damage it good for the sake of being found
To cast away this cloudy fog
And reclaim my sense to savor the whole hog

But it keeps rolling in with an encompassing form
All taste is lost in this crowd all alone