My personal cloud i rest my head,
my personal cloud is my bed.
Ready for bed, ready to dream.
Out the window, the street lights gleam.
Colors everywhere in pink and white,
with my bed so tall, i know i'm a fun height.
My personal cloud is nice and sound,
as if bedtime ferries were circling my head all around.
My personal cloud reminds me i am home,
even when i lay there and talk on the phone.
My personal cloud is my very own home to me,
because my personal cloud is where i long to be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem