Cloud Vi Poem by Mason Maestro

Rolling in with an enigmatic form
All sense is lost in this crowd I'm alone
I have all five, yet I am ESP deprived
For some form of knowing what I know best

Somewhere in between Trieste and Beirut
I've lost my very own formal-wear suit
It's been awhile now and its all I hold
The ones all around me are blind, as I'm told

With no sixth sense to grasp what is truth
I'll share far and wide for the sake of our youth
To perceive what is evil up to the nimbostratus
and reclaim awareness for the human status

But it keeps rolling in with an enigmatic form
All sense is lost, in this crowd all alone