The Cloud Poem by Cody O'Hara

This cloud above us
Grey, bleak, dead

Drains us of life
Turns words to ash

Emotions run dry, and
Friendships wither

We are left as husks
Simply wandering

Shadows of who we once were
Dead, even with veins beating

No hope, no chance
Just a dull routine

We turn our heads to the sky
Wishing, always wishing

Remembering the sweet
Sunlight and cool spring air

Trying to grasp who we once were
But all attempts are in vain

Those persons are dead
Grey, bleak, dead...