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Nov 2017
i woke up beneath the clouds
been a long time since i looked at them
i observe how they move
how each cloud has its unparalleled look
how each cloud has its individual history
grey and white clouds

the white clouds symbolize her presence
white clouds are like her;
gentle, without any defects
she was that kind of story
that kind of book in which
you would die to be in

the grey clouds symbolize my longing
grey clouds are like me;
tempestuous, abrupt, unliked
i was that kind of story
that kind of book in which
none would be fond of to be in

we were in that kind of story
that kind of book in which
everyone would die to be in
i felt love at the first sight
the time passed so did clouds
the ones i've been looking at

i still go back to the times when we were together
but i need to stop thinking about it now
i'm afraid that our love will get
more profound when we are departed
that's the hardest part of being alone
feeling your ghost in my empty room

i glance at the sky once again
the clouds i've been observing
have gone away from my vision now
and she said;
"i believe that there is love in holding and in letting go"
"and it's time to let go"
but i will never stop gazing at the sky
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