Skies were always fascinating
Them with their blue hues
Brightness in even the darkest navy
Accented with silver twinkle
Or giants made of pillow softness
The whitest mattresses in the sky
But it always daunts me how skies are grey
With their plush blues
Gone to waste
The doom of smoke comes to play
But then comes the tears of those enchanted
With droughts and disparity
But grey skies don't always cry
Not the ones that smoke you dry
They force the water out of smiles
Those who couldn't revoke
No one asks to be blown up by the mist of our greed
And for a second there is fire but the rest is just need
Sadness wanders beautiful cities
Whilst their people are broke
Burning the happiness of children on the streets
Or whatever is left of them
So When I look up
At night or day
And see the blue is here today
and with my fear I look up high,
My god, thank you for a clear blue sky