Dark clouds scurry through the sky,
But sometimes stop to rain.
Sometimes you just can't stay dry,
Your efforts are all in vain.
Dark and ominous they hover round,
Like harbingers of doom.
With a terrible loud and booming sound,
To compound the gloom.
11/22/10 Alton Texas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem