I wrote my heart across the sky,
But it faded with the blue.
I wrote my heart on the clouds,
They poured down with it.
When I wrote it on land
It went wild with the wind!
So I decided to live it
But no one could believe it,
The beggar by the street couldn't have it
And the farmer couldn't preserve it.
Nothing seemed to work.
I was out of luck!
Till I saw a blank page
And dirtied it with the ink of rage.
Then it stayed fixed for years
Until the people read,
Read it out loud to the skies
So everyone on land could hear.
It rained on everyone's ear,
The people on the street were wet with a tear!
The eloquent breeze of trees held it high
And it stick to their heads like glue.
Where it came from they had not a clue!
Wrote this along the lines of August and September. Don't ask me what I was trying to do,I guess I was proving it to myself that I can write free-verse poetry.