The clouds they sweep across the sky
The wind their pilot
No time for goodbye.
Patchy holes I see right through
Like a spying game
I see some blue.
Shapes they form then fade away
What could that be
I play all day.
The clouds they’re sad
They start to cry
I close my window and say goodbye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very colorful and highly lyrical. Enjoy the ending. Creative thinking.